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BIOGRAPHY 


OF 


Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 


A    BIOGRAPHY 


^  OF  PRI^ 
NOV  20  1931 


OF 


REV.  HEMY  WARD  BEECHER 


BY 


Wm.  c,  Beecher  and  IIev.  Samuel  Scoville. 


ASSISTED  BY 


.M  RS.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 


New  York  : 
CHARLES  L.  WEBSTER  &  COMPANY. 

1888. 


Copyrighted  by 
CHARLES  L.  WEBSTER  &  COMPANY, 

1333 
{All  rights  reserved.) 


H.  J.  HEWITT, 

PRINTER   AND   ELECTROTYPER, 

27    ROSE  STREET,  N.  Y. 


$0  ®\iv  BXothcv, 


WHOSE     FAITHFUL      LOVE     AND      PATIENT      SELF-DEVOTION      COM- 


FORTED    AND     STRENGTHENED     OUR     BELOVED     FATHER 


DURING    TROUBLES,    BLESSED    AND    ENCOUR- 


AGED   HUM    IN    PROSPERITY, 


A  TRUE  COMPANION  AND  DEVOTED  HELPMEET, 


WE    DEDICATE    THIS    STORY    OF    HIS    LIFE. 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER  I. 


Ancestry — Beecher — Ward — Foote — The  Anvil — The  Oak — Court- 
ship and  Marriage  of  Lyman  Beecher  and  Roxana  Foote — 
Home  at  East  Hampton,  Long  Island — Removal  to  Litchfield, 
Connecticut : 17-29 

CHAPTER  II. 

Litchfieid— Situation — Natural  Features — Early  Settlers — Social 
and  Moral  Advantages — Patriotism— Nonh  Street  described 
— The  Beecher  Home— Birth  of  Henry  Ward— The  Times  at 
Home  and  Abroad— His  Birth-Mark 30-45 

CHAPTER  III. 

Early  Glimpses — Recollections  of  the  Mother— Going  to  School  at 
Ma'am  Kilbourne's — His  First  Letter — District  School — The 
Coming  of  the  New  Mother — His  First  Ride  on  Horseback — 
A  Merry  Household — Fishing  Excursions — Minister's  Wood- 
Spell — Saturday  Night — Going  to  Meeting — The  Puritan  Sab- 
bath—The Cold  of  Litchfield  Hill— Rats— Work— The  Cate- 
chism— Formative  Influences — Summing  Up 46-71 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Boyhood— Sent  to  School  at  Bethlehem— The  Widow  Ingersoll's— 
Failure— A  Champion— Sent  to  Catharine  Beecher's  School  in 
Hartford— Humorous  Incidents— Religious  Experience 72-81 

CHAPTER  V. 

Boston — Home  Atmosphere— Various  Experiences — Ethics  rub- 
bed in  by  a  Six-pound  Shot — Discontent — Makes  up  his  Mind 
to  go  to  Sea — To  Study  Navigation — Picture  of  his  Life  in 
Boston 82-92 


COX  TEXTS. 


PAGE 

CHAPTER  VI. 

School-Life  at  Mount  Pleasant — Mathematics — Elocution — Testi- 
mony of  Classmates — Religious  Experiences — Troubles — A 
Romantic  Friendship — Another  Kind — Letter  of  Reminis- 
cence— A  Royal  School-Boy 93-10S 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Amherst  College — Private  Journal — Testimony  of  Classmates — 
Tutor's  Delight — Begins  his  Anti-Slavery  Career — Spiritual 
Darkness — Engagement — Letters  of  his  Mother — Experiences 
in  Teaching  School — First  Sermons — Lecturing — His  Reading 
— The  Record 109-135 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Lane    Seminary— Dr.  Beecher  Called — Home  at  Walnut  Hills —  , 

Amusing  Incidents — Family  Meeting — Death  of  Mrs.  Beecher 
— Extracts  from  Journal — First  Mention  of  Preaching  in  the 
West — Experience  in  Ecclesiastical  Matters — Despondency — 
Meeting  of  Synod — Influences  of  the  Times — Revulsion — A 
Rift  along  the  Horizon — "  Full  iolly  Knight  " 136-156 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Call  to  Preach — License — Examination  by  Miami  Presbytery— Re- 
fusal to  Subscribe  to  Old  School  — Ordination  by  Oxford  Pres- 
bytery— Visit  East — Marriage — Housekeeping 157-1S0 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  New  Field — Growth  of  Influence — Social  Life — The  Secret  of 
Effective  Preaching — Editorial  Labors — Lectures  to  Young 
Men — Call  to  Brooklyn — Departure 181-209 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Invitation  to  come  East — Call  to  Plymouth  Church — Friendly  Mis- 
givings— Plainly  Outlining  his  Views — Early  Success— Ply- 
mouth Burned — Preaching  in  the  Tabernacle 210-224. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Plymouth  Church— The  New  Building— Sabbath  Service— Prayer- 
Meeting— Weekly  Lecture— Socials— Church  Polity — The  Pas- 
tor's Policy 225-232 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Beginning  of  the  Great  Battle— Five  Great  Eras— Compromise 
Measures  of  1S50— "  Shall  We  Compromise" — The  Fugitive 
Slave    Law   denounced — Right   of   Free    Speech    defended — 


CONTENTS. 


Commercial  Liberty — Fighting  Caste — Liberty  of  the  Pulpit 
defended — Quickness  of  Retort — Sentiment  <>f  the  Times — 
Reaction— Visit  of  Kossuth— Election  of  1S52 — The  Parker 
Controversy — Degraded  into  Liberty — John  Mitchel — Garri- 
son— Close  of  this  Era 233-270 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Battle  renewed — Repeal  of  the  Missouri  Compromise  pro- 
posed— The  Struggle  in  Congress — Mr.  Beechcr's  Appeals — 
The  Battle  lost  in  Congress  is  transferred  to  the  Territories — 
Forces  engaged — Kansas  War — Dred  Scott  Decision — Mr. 
Beecher's  Defence  of  Kansas — "  Beecher's  Bibles" — Charles 
Sumner  attacked  in  the  Senate — The  Fremont  Campaign — 
The  Dog  Noble 271-291 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Remarkable  Experiences — The  Edmonson  Sisters — Pinky  and  her 
Freedom-Ring — Slave  Auction  in  Plymouth  Church — John 
Brown — The  Wrong  and  Right  Way — Election  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  — Secession — Buchanan's  Fast 292-308 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

War  Begun — Firing  upon  Fort  Sumter — "The  American  Eagle 
as  you  want  it  " — Death  of  Col.  Ellsworth — Equips  his  Sons — 
Personal  Feeling  yields  to  Patriotism — His  House  a  Store- 
house of  Military  Supplies — Sends  a  Regiment  as  his  Sub- 
stitute— Our  National  Flag — The  Camp,  its  Dangers  and  Duties 
— Bull  Run — Becomes  Editor  of  the  Independent — Salutatory 
— The  Trent  Affair — Fight,  Tax — Soldiers  or  Ferrets — Charac- 
teristics as  an  Editor — One  Nation,  one  Constitution,  one 
Starry  Banner — McClellan  Safe,  and  Richmond  too — Mildly 
carrying  on  War — The  Root  of  the  Matter — The  only  Ground 
— A  Queer  Pulpit — President's  Proclamation  of  Emancipation 
— Let  come  what  will  —Close  of  the  Third  Era 309~333 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

First  Voyage  to  England — Extracts  from  Diary — Warwick  Castle — 
Stratford-on-Avon — The  Skylark — Oxford — Bodleian  Library 
— London— Old-time  Sadness — Paris — Catch-Words  from 
Diary — Effect  of  Picture-Gallery — The  Louvre — His  Return.  .   339-349 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Church  and  Steamboat — Jenny  Lind — Hospitality — Colonel  Pert- 
zel — The  Family — Twins — Medicine— Giving  Counsel — For 
the  Sailor — An  Absurd  Story  contradicted — Salisbury — Trout- 
ing — Death    of    Alfred  and    Arthur — Letters   to   his  Daugh- 


IO  CONTENTS. 


ter  at  School — Lenox — Equivocal  Honors  declined — The 
Pulpit — "  Plymouth  Collection  " — "  Shining  Shore  " — A 
Church  Liturgy — Courting  with  his  Father's  old  Love-letters — 
1857  a  Year  of  Trial— Matteawan — Visit  to  Litchfield — 1858  a 
Year  of  Harvest — Revival  Meetings — Hospitality  of  Plymouth 
Church — Courtesy  to  Errorists — New  Organ — Peekskill — Let- 
ters to  his  Daughter  abroad — Marriage  of  his  Daughter — Lec- 
turing— Title  of  D.D.  declined — Flowers  in  Church — Christian 
Liberty  in  the  use  of  the  Beautiful — His  two  Lines  of  Labor. ..  350-395 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Visit  to  England  in  1863 — The  Need  of  Rest — Condition  of  Affairs 
at  Home — Arrival  at  Liverpool — Refusal  to  Speak — Visit  to 
the  Continent — Reception  by  the  King  of  Belgium — Civil 
War  discussed — News  of  Victories — Return  to  England 396-407 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Facing  the  Mob  in  Manchester — Glasgow — Edinburgh — Desperate 
Attempts  to  break  Mr.  Beecher  down  at  Liverpool — Victory 
in  London 408-442 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Close  of  the  War — Distrust  of  the  Administration — Kindlier  Feel- 
ings after  Mr.  Beecher's  Return  from  England — Growing  Con- 
fidence— Intimacy  with  Secretary  Stanton — Fort  Sumter — 
Lee's  Surrender — Lincoln's  Death 443-456 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

Reconstruction — Mr.  Beecher  favors  speedy  Readmission — Sol- 
diers' and  Sailors'  Convention  at  Cleveland— The  "Cleveland 
Letters  "  cause  great  Excitement 457-478 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  "Silver  Wedding  "of  Plymouth  Church— Children's  Day- 
Services  in  the  Church-Reunion  of  old  Members—  Histori- 
cal   Reminiscences— Dr.  Storrs's  Tribute 479-487 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  Conspiracy— Relations  with  Mr.  Bowen— Disputes  and  Arbi- 
tration—Theodore Tilton's  Early  Promise  and  Intimacy  with 
Mr.  Beecher— Bowen's  Ill-Will  and  Tilton's  Malice— Tilton 
discharged  from  Independent  and  Brooklyn  Union— Tripartite 
Agreement— Moulton  and  Tilton  Conspire  to  Blackmail  Mr. 
Beecher— Tilton  consults  Dr.  Storrs 488-522 


TENTS.  \  i 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


After-Effects — Charges  against  Tilton — Advisory  Council — Inves- 
tigating Committee  called  by  Mr.  Beecher — Its  Report — Drop- 
ping Mr.  Moulton— Council  called  by  Plymouth  Church 523-536 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

After-Effects  of  the  Conspiracy — Calling  Council  of  1876 — Princi- 
ple of  Selection — Mr.  Beecher  cautions  his  Church — Bowen 
Reappears  ;  Proposes  a  Secret  Tribunal — Mr.  Beecher's  Re- 
ply— Bowen  Dropped  by  Plymouth  Church — Deliverance  of 
Council  sustaining  Plymouth — Mr.  Beecher's  Persecutors  De- 
nounced— Special  Tribunal 537-563 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Rest  and  renewed  Activity — Lecturing  Tours — Resignation  from 

the  Congregational  Association — Boston  Criticisms 564-570 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Attacking  Corrupt  Judges — Interest  in  Political  Questions — 
Advocating  Arthur's  Renomination  —  Opposing  Blaine — Sup- 
porting Cleveland — Campaign  of  1884 — After  the  Battle 571-537 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A  Preacher — His  Place — His  Training — His  Estimate  of  the 
Work — Defects — Effectual  Call — Upon  Drawing  an  Audience 
— His  Theory — Preparation — Results — A  Theologian — His 
Orthodoxy — Evolution — Ordinances — Christian  Unity — Sec- 
tarianism— Peacemaker 588-613 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Love   of     the    Country — Communion   with    Nature — Farming    at 

Salisbury — Lenox — Matteawan — The  Peekskill  Farm 614-638 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Home  Life — Love  of  Children — His  Method  of  Training  and  Edu- 
cation— Formation  of  Library  and  Art  Collection — Personal 
Traits 639-664 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

1886 — England  Revisited — Speaking  in  the  City  Temple — West- 
minster Abbe}' — Lecturing  through  Great  Britain — Addressing 
the  Theological  Students  at  City  Temple—"  Life  of  Christ  "— 
Sickness— Rest 665-683 

Appendix >< 687 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

i.  Anvil  and  Oak  Stump 18 

2.  Foote  Coat-of-Arms 21 

3.  Church  in  which  Lyman  Beecher  preached,  in  East  Hampton,  L.  I.  28 

4.  Beecher  Residence  at  Litchfield 39 

5.  Room  in  which  Mr.  Beecher  was  born 43 

6.  Elms  and  Well  which  mark  the  Site  of  the  "  Beecher  House"  in 

Litchfield 45 

7.  Facsimile  of  the  first  Letter  of  Mr.  Beecher 50 

8.  Ingersoll  House , 73 

9.  Stairs  in  Catharine  Beecher's  House  in  Hartford in 

10.  Mr.  Beecher  at  the  time  of  his  Marriage   16S 

n.   Mrs.  Beecher  at  the  time  of  her  Marriage 169 

12.  Church  at  Indianapolis Facing  page  1S2 

13.  Mr.  Beecher's  House  at  Indianapolis "           "  202 

14.  Mr.  Beecher  and  his  Father  at  time  of  Call  to  Brooklyn,  "           "  210 

15.  Pinky's  Freedom-Ring   295 

16.  Mr.  Beecher  in  1850 367 

17.  Mr.  Beecher  at  the  Close  of  the  War 445 

i3.  Mr.  Beecher  and  his  Sister,  Mrs.  H.  E.  B.  Stowe 525 

19.  Cottage  at  Peekskill 619 

20.  Old  Apple-Tree 621 

21.  Mr.  Beecher  on  his  Farm 625 

22.  House  at  Peekskill 631 

23.  Hall  in  New  House  at  Peekskill 633 

24.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beecher  at  the  time  of  Visit  to  England  in  1S86 667 

25.  Lying  in  State  in  Plymouth  Church 679 


PREFACE. 


A  FEW  months  prior  to  his  death  our  father  undertook 
the  preparation  of  his  Autobiography.  This  was  earnestly 
encouraged  by  his  family,  who  shared  with  the  public  the 
desire  that  he  should  tell  the  tale  of  his  life  in  his  own 
words,  giving  those  pictures  of  his  inner  self,  the  impressions 
made  on  him  by  his  varying  experiences,  that  he  alone  could 
give,  and  which,  to  a  large  extent,  he  alone  knew.  Con- 
fiding and  free-spoken  as  he  was  in  his  joys,  in  his  griefs 
he  withdrew  within  himself,  bearing  in  patient  silence  a 
load  of  sorrow  unknown  even  to  those  nearest  to  him. 
But  it  was  not  to  be.  He  had  only  jotted  down  a  rough 
outline  of  his  plan,  and  written  a  part  of  an  intermediate 
chapter,  when  he  laid  down  his  pen  for  a  little  rest,  never 
to    be    resumed    again. 

In  his  contract  with  our  publishers  but  a  single  volume 
of  not  less  than  six  hundred  pages  was  contemplated.  Un- 
conscious of  its  magnitude,  we  undertook  to  complete  the 
contract.  Accepting  the  limitations  of  a  single  volume,  we 
began  to  collect  the  necessary  material,  and,  when  too  late 
to  change  the  form  of  the  work,  discovered  that  two  volumes 
would  hardly  contain  the  history  as  it  opened  up  to  us, 
so  closely  interwoven  has  his  life  been  with  the  nation's  his- 
tory, and  so  full  of  important  incidents.  In  the  work  of 
condensation,  to  bring  our  story  within  the  space  prescribed, 
we  found  it  necessary  to  omit  many  of  his  letters,  hoping 
that  in  the  not  far-distant  future  we  might  publish  a  sup- 
plemental volume  containing  all  of  his  important  correspon- 
dence. 


14  PREFACE. 

The  book  before  us  we  have  sought,  as  far  as  possible, 
to  make  autobiographic,  telling  the  tale  in  our  father's  words  ; 
happily  the  many  letters  furnished  us  by  friends,  or  retained 
in  the  family,  his  public  writings  and  utterances,  supplement- 
ed by  the  many  personal  reminiscences  which  he  gave  us  at 
various   times,   has  enabled  us   to   do   so   to   a  large  extent. 

We  are  fully  conscious  of  the  imperfect  manner  in  which 
we  have  woven  these  quotations  into  our  story  ;  the  ordi- 
nary writer  who  attempts  to  connect  with  his  words  those 
glowing  sentences  white-hot  with  his  fiery  indignation  against 
slavery,  or  his  eloquent  appeal  to  the  English  public  for  fair- 
dealing,  or  the  brilliant  play  of  wit  and  fancy  in  his  more 
humorous  utterances,  can  hope,  at  the  most,  to  give  but  a 
respectable    background    that    may    aid    by    contrast. 

We  have  sought  to  make  this  book  a  truthful  history 
from  the  beginnings  of  his  life,  through  boyhood,  manhood, 
and  ripened  age,  to  the  end,  omitting  no  important  period, 
though  passing  innumerable  incidents. 

A  man  loving  peace,  he  reached  peace  only  through  war. 
From  his  early  manhood  he  was  called  to  meet  in  deadly 
combat  the  great  sins  of  the  nation.  Through  his  life,  at  dif- 
ferent times,  he  met  and  overcame  bitter  and  deadly  assaults 
made  upon  him. 

In  our  narration  of  these  events  we  have  had  no  revenge 
to  gratify  nor  theory  to  maintain.  We  have  tried  to  give  only 
facts,  omitting  deductions  or  conclusions,  leaving  each  reader 
to  draw  his  own  inferences.  If  parts  of  our  narrative  bear 
hardly  on  any,  it  is  only  the  pressure  of  the  facts  which  can- 
not be  suppressed  in  any  fearless,  truthful  portrayal  of  our 
father's  life.     We  do  not  make  them  ;  we  merely  state  them. 

We  would  acknowledge  our  indebtedness  to  the  many 
friends  who  have  kindly  furnished  letters  and  reminiscences, 
but  especially  to  our  mother,  whose  memory,  running  back 
along    the   paths    they    travelled    for    so    many  years    together, 


PK.  I  5 

has  given  to  us  much  that  never  would   otherwise    haw    been 

known. 

If  our  readers  get  from  a  perusal  of  these  pages  a  tithe 
of  the  comfort  and  inspiration  which  we  have  obtained  from 
their  preparation,  we  shall  feel  that  our  work  has  not  been 
in    vain. 

If  they  can  see  something  of  the  fearlessness  for  right, 
the  patience  under  unjust  suffering,  the  inextinguishable  love 
for  fellow-men'  and  the  abiding  faith  in  God,  that  has  been 
revealed  by  a  study  of  his  life  even  to  us,  who  knew  him 
best,   we  shall   be   satisfied. 

W.  C.  Beecher, 
Samuel  Scoville. 

Brooklyn,  March  12,   1888. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Ancestry — Beechcr — Ward — Foote — The  Anvil — The  Oak — Courtship  and 
Marriage  of  Lyman  Beecher  and  Roxana  Foote — Home  at  East  Hamp- 
ton, Long  Island — Removal  to  Litchfield,  Connecticut. 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  used  to  say  that  the  first  thing 
for  a  man  to  do,  if  he  would  succeed  in  life,  is  to  "  choose 
a  good  father  and  mother  to  be  born  of."  He  himself 
Mas  eminently  wise,  or  fortunate,  as  the  case  may  be,  in  this 
matter. 

"  My  earthly  life,"  he  says,  "was  given  me  by  two  of  the  best 
folks  that  ever  lived  on  earth."  His  father,  Lyman  Beecher,  was 
one  of  the  leading  preachers,  reformers,  and  controversialists  of 
his  day.  Sturdy  in  body  and  mind,  full  of  sensibility,  aflame 
with  enthusiasm,  devoted  to  the  highest  aims  and  utterly  unself- 
ish in  life,  a  Christian  in  whom  deep  spirituality  and  strong 
common  sense  were  happily  blended,  he  was  just  the  man  to 
transmit  excellent  qualities  to  his  children;  a  father  to  be  en- 
joyed while  living,  and  to  be  remembered  with  love  and  rever- 
ence after  his  death. 

Of  him  his  son  says  :  "  While  he  was  eloquent  and  among 
the  foremost  speakers  of  his  day,  I  remember  particularly  that 
I  never  heard  from  him  a  word  of  uncharitableness,  nor  saw 
a  symptom  of  envy  or  jealousy,  or  aught  else  but  the  most  en- 
thusiastic love  of  men,  and  of  young  men  and  young  ministers  ; 
and  knowing  him  in  the  household,  I  have  yet  to  know  another 
person  that  was  so  devoid  of  the  inferior  feelings  and  so  eminent 
in  the  topmost  feelings  of  human  nature." 

Lyman's  father's  name  was  David,  a  well-read,  clear-headed 
man,  with  decided  opinions  upon  the  questions  of  the  day  ;  one 
with  whom  Roger  Sherman  delighted,  upon  his  return  from  Con- 
gress, to  talk  over  the  business  of  the  session  and  discuss  public 
affairs.  He  kept  college  students  as  boarders,  that  he  might  en- 
joy their  conversation,  and  made  himself  proficient  in  many  of 
their  studies.  Of  him  his  son  said  :  "  If  he  had  received  a  regu- 
lar education  he  would  have  been  equal  to  anybody."      He  was 


i8 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


both  blacksmith  and  farmer,  and  had  the  reputation  of  "  raising 
the  nicest  rye  and  making  the  best  hoes  in  New  England." 

Lyman  Beecher's  mother  was  a  Lyman,  a  woman  "  of  a  joy- 
ous, sparkling,  hopeful  temperament."  Her  grandfather  was  a 
Scotchman,  thus  giving  a  little  Gaelic  blood  to  the  veins  of  her 
descendants.  In  his  autobiography  Lyman  Beecher  says  :  %i  She 
died  of  consumption  two  days  after  I  was  born.  I  was  a  seven- 
months  child,  and  when  the  woman  that  attended  on  her  saw 
what  a  puny  thing  I  was,  and  that  the  mother  could  not  live,  she 
thought  it  useless  to  attempt  to  keep  me  alive.  I  was  actu- 
ally wrapped  up  and  laid  aside.  But  after  a  while  one  of  the 
women  thought  she  would  look  and  see  if  I  were  living,  and,  find- 


The  Anvil  and  Oak  Stump. 


ing  I  was,  concluded  to  wash  and  dress  me,  saying  :  '  It's  a  pity 
he  hadn't  died  with  his  mother.'  So  you  see  it  was  but  by  a 
hair's-breadth  I  got  a  foothold  in  this  world."  He  was  taken  in 
charge  by  "  Aunt  Benton  "  and  brought  up  on  his  uncle  Lot  Ben- 
ton's farm  in  North  Guilford,  where  farm-work  and  farm-fare 
made  him  strong. 

Their  intention  was  to  make  a  farmer  of  him  ;  but  the  intoler- 
able slowness  of  an  ox-team,  in  ploughing  fifteen  acres  of  summer 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  \ g 

fallow  three  times  over  in  a  single  season,  so  disgusted  the  lad 
that  he  became  restless.  His  uncle  saw  it,  and  upon  consultation 
with  the  father  they  decided  to  send  him  to  school  to  prepare 
for  Vale  College,  which  was  accordingly  done.  He  often  said, 
"  Oxen  sent  me  to  college." 

David's  father's  name  was  Nathaniel.  He  was  also  a  black- 
smith, and  the  anvil  of  both  father  and  son  stood  upon  the  stump 
of  that  old  oak  under  which  John  Davenport  preached  his  first 
sermon  to  the  New  Haven  Colony.  He  married  a  Sperry,  "a 
pious  woman,"  whose  mother  was  a  Roberts  from  Forlallt,  Car- 
diganshire, Wales.  From  her,  his  great  great-grandmother,  came 
the  fervid  Welsh  blood  with  which  Henry  Ward  was  always  so 
well  pleased. 

Joseph  was  the  father  of  Nathaniel.  His  father's  name  was 
John,  of  whom  tradition  says  that  he  was  one  of  those  who  in  the 
fall  of  1637  accompanied  Samuel  Eaton  in  his  explorations  for  a 
suitable  location  for  the  colony  of  John  Davenport,  that  had  just 
come  over  and  was  then  staying  at  Boston  ;  and  that  he  was  one 
of  the  very  few  men  who  lived  through  the  winter  in  the  poor  hut 
that  had  been  built  at  "  Quinnipiack,"  New  Haven,  that  they 
might  pre-empt  the  territory  and  be  in  readiness  to  welcome  the 
colony  in  the  following  spring. 

He  was  the  only  son  of  Hannah  Beecher,  whose  husband, 
born  in  Kent,  England,  died  just  before  the  colony  sailed.  She 
was  about  to  abandon  the  ^enterprise,  but,  being  a  midwife  and 
likely  to  be  of  service  to  the  youthful  colony,  they  promised  her 
her  husband's  share  in  the  town  plot  if  she  wrould  come.  They 
kept  their  word,  and  it  was  in  her  lot  that  the  historic  oak  just 
mentioned   stood. 

Her  business  seems  not  to  have  been  remarkably  lucrative, 
for  at  her  death  her  estate  inventoried  only  £55  5s.  6d. 

One  earlier  mention  of  the  family  wras  found  by  Mr.  Beecher 
in  the  British  Museum  during  his  visit  to  England  in  1863,  and 
copied  in  his  diary  : 

"Visitation  of  Kent,  16,279  Brit.  Museum. 

"Henry  Beecher,  alderman  and  sheriff  of  London  1570, 
ob't  1571." 

Apparently  of  more  than  the  average  intellectual  ability  of 
their  class,  there  was  one  feature  in  which  the  men  whom  we  have 
described  markedly  excelled — namely,  in  their  physical  strength. 


20  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

The  standard  of  measurement  was  peculiar  to  those  early  times, 
and  may  not  be  as  well  understood  by  us  ;  yet  it  even  now  con- 
veys the  idea  of  great  stalwartness.  David,  it  was  said,  could 
lift  a  barrel  of  cider  and  carry  it  into  the  cellar  ;  Nathaniel,  his 
father,  was  not  quite  as  strong,  yet  he  could  throw  a  barrel  of 
cider  into  a  cart;  while  Joseph  exceeded  them  all,  for  he  could  lift 
the  barrel  and  drink  out  of  the  bung-hole.  Of  Henry,  the  sheriff, 
no  description  has  been  found. 

There  was  one  especial  feature  of  degeneracy  in  these  mod- 
ern days,  compared  with  the  good  old  times  of  the  fathers,  over 
which  Henry  Ward,  when  Mrs.  Beecher  was  just  within  earshot, 
moaned  and  groaned.  His  grandfather,  he  said,  had  five  wives, 
his  father  had  three,  but  such  was  the  meagreness  of  these  penu- 
rious times  in  which  he  lived,  and  the  persistence  of  the  Bullard 
blood,  that  he  saw  no  chance  for  himself  to  have  more  than  one. 
But  afterwards,  lest  she  should  feel  hurt  at  his  raillery,  he  writes 
her  with  many  expressions  of  affection,  in  a  letter  dated  March 
31,  1872:  '  It  has  always  been  a  shadow  over  the  future  to  fear 
that  I  should  walk  alone  the  few  remaining  years  of  my  life, 
for  alone  I  shall  be  if  you  go  from  me.  In  jest  we  have  often 
spoken  of  other  connections.'  But  such  a  thing  is  the  remotest 
of  possibilities.  Should  you  go  no  one  would  ever  take  your 
place." 

Such  was  the  ancestry  selected  on  the  father's  side.  Six  gen- 
erations, without  question,  are  known  to  us,  reaching  from  the 
hills  of  Litchfield,  in  Connecticut,  to  the  chalk-cliffs  of  Kent, 
England.  For  that  distance  we  can  trace  the  family  stream  up 
to  its  sources  in  the  great  body  of  the  English  common  people, 
in  that  county  most  characteristic  of  England,  where  the  Roman 
had  first  struggled  with  the  Briton,  where  the  "free-necked 
men,"  under  Hengist  and  Horsa,  had  first  made  a  lodgment  on 
English  soil,  and  near  which  was  Hastings  and  the  fields  of  the 
Norman  conquest,  and  where,  perhaps  more  than  in  any  other 
county,  mingled  those  different  strains  of  blood,  Briton,  Roman, 
Saxon,  Northmen,  Scots,  and  Picts,  out  of  which  has  come  Eng- 
land's strength  and  England's  greatness.  We  find  all  of  them  of 
the  yeomanry,  all  of  them  honest,  useful,  God-fearing  men,  fit  to 
be  the  progenitors  of  one  who  delighted  in  nothing  more  than 
in  his  common  experiences  with  common  people,  and  valued 
nothing  more  highly  than  their  confidence  and  friendship. 


REV.  HENRY  WARP   BEECHER. 


21 


Nor  would  it  be  difficult  to  find  in  the  sturdy  independence 

and  quaint  humor  of  these  men  of  the  anvil  and  the  plough,  the 
origin  of  much  of  that  robust  and  humorous  manliness  which 
made  Henry  Ward  Beechei  ^o  conspicuous  in  his  day  and  gen- 
eration. 

His  power  to  strike  heavy  blows  and  to  hit  the  nail  on  the 
head  was  partly  inherited,  and  that  anvil-ring  of  the  fathers  has 
been  often  heard  in  these  latter  days  under  his  sledge-hammer 
strokes.  If  the  iron  were  not  hot,  he  heated  it  by  striking,  and 
sparks  flew,  and  men's  hearts  and  minds  were  moulded  and  weld- 
ed before  he  was  done. 

More  than  this,  there  appears  in  him  something  of  the  love 
of  the  "  shield-game  "  and  the  "  sword-play "  of  those  earlier 
generations  that  were  "  at  heart  fighters,"  and  something  also  of 
the  sadness  and  heroism  which  led  them  to  say,  "  Each  man  of  us 
shall  abide  the  end  of  his  life- 
work  ;  let  him  that  may,  work  his 
doomed   deeds   ere  death  come." 

On  the  mother's  side  the  se- 
lection was  somewhat  different. 
While  we  find  no  more  sterling 
qualities,  there  is  in  this  line  a 
higher  social  position,  more  cul- 
ture, a  broader  training  in  pub- 
lic affairs,  both  civil  and  military, 
and  what  with  some  may  appear 
of  still  greater  importance,  a  coat- 
of-arms  given  as  a  special  mark 
of  royal  gratitude. 

Roxana  Foote  had  gentle 
blood  in  her  veins.  She  could 
trace  her  genealogy  on  the  fa- 
ther's side  back  through  Natha- 
niel Foote,  who  came  into  Con- 
necticut with  Hooker's  company 
in  1636,  to  James  Foote,  an  officer 
in  the  English  army,  who  aided 
King  Charles  to  conceal  himself 
in  the  "  Royal  Oak  "  and  was  knighted  for  his  loyalty.  As 
the  old  primer  has  it : 


2  2  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  It  was  the  tree,  the  old  oak-tree, 
Which  saved  his  royal  majesty." 

The  tree  stood  in  a  field  of  clover,  and  the  Foote  coat-of-arms 
still  bears  an  oak  for  its  crest  and  a  clover-leaf  in  its  quarterings, 
with  the  motto  "  Loyalty  and  Truth." 

Her  mother,  Roxana  Ward  Foote,  was  descended  from 
Andrew  Ward,  who  came  over  with  Sir  Richard  Saltonstall  and 
settled  in  Watertown,  Mass.,  in  1630. 

He  afterwards  moved  to  Wethersfield,  and  was  a  member  of 
the  first  General  Court,  or  Legislature,  held  at  Hartford  in  1636. 
Later  he  moved  to  Stamford,  and  represented  that  colony  in  the 
higher  branch  of  the  General  Court  at  New  Haven. 

From  him  descended  Colonel  Andrew  Ward,  who  took  part 
in  the  old  French  and  Indian  war  and  aided  in  the  capture  of 
Louisburg  in  1745.  Of  him  it  is  told  that,  being  a  stanch  cold- 
water  man,  he  took  money  in  lieu  of  his  daily  rations  of  grog. 
With  this  he  bought  six  silver  spoons,  on  which  he  had  engraved 
the  name  "  Louisburg."  Some  of  these  spoons  are  still  preserved 
in  the  family,  witnesses  to  the  virtue  and  valor  of  one  of  its  hon- 
ored ancestors. 

His  son  was  General  Andrew  Ward,  of  Revolutionary  fame, 
who,  at  the  close  of  the  war,  went  back  to  his  native  town,  Guil- 
ford, and  took  up  his  residence  upon  a  farm  of  about  two  hun- 
dred acres,  called  Nutplains.  For  many  years  he  represented 
the  town  in  the  State  Legislature,  being  nominated,  it  is  said,  year 
after  year  by  some  one  of  the  town  worthies  in  this  primitive 
manner  :  "  The  meeting  is  now  open,  and  you  will  proceed  to 
vote  for  General  Ward  and  Deacon  Burgess  for  representatives." 

When  his  daughter,  an  only  child,  who  had  married  Eli  Foote, 
was  left  a  widow,  he  took  her  with  her  ten  children  to  his  home 
at  Nutplains,  and  cared  for  them  as  if  they  were  his  own.  Being 
a  great  reader,  and  always  bringing  home  with  him  from  the 
Legislature  his  saddle-bags  full  of  books,  which  were  read  aloud 
and  discussed  in  the  family,  this  home  became  a  school  that 
afforded  superior  advantages  for  gaining  acquaintance  with  litera- 
ture, for  acquiring  such  knowledge  of  science  as  was  accessible 
at  that  time,  and  for  exciting  thought  and  interest.  In  that 
school  Roxana,  the  second-born  of  the  family,  is  represented  to 
have  been  easily  first  both  in  intellect  and  goodness. 

Taking  her  part  in  the  labor  of  the  household  at  a  time  when 


REV,  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER,  23 

a  was  expected  that  the  woman  portion  would  not  only  care  for 
the  house,  prepare  the  food,  and  make  the  clothes  lor  all  the 
family,  but  also  weave  and  spin  the  materials  as  well,  she  yet 
managed  to  acquire  an    education  of  which  graduates    of  our 

modern  schools  and  colleges  might  well  be  proud.  "She  studied 
while  she  spun  Max,  tying  her  books  to  the  distaff."  She  not 
only  became  well  read  in  literature  and  history,  and  acquainted 
with  the  progress  of  science,  then  just  beginning  to  attract  the 
attention  of  scholars,  but  learned  to  write  and  speak  the  French 
language  fluently.  She  gave  enough  attention  to  music  to  be 
able  to  accompany  her  voice  on  the  guitar,  and  was  sufficiently 
skilled  in  the  use  of  pencil  and  brush  to  paint  some  very  credita- 
ble portraits  upon  ivory,  several  of  which  are  still  in  the  family. 
She  was  an  adept  in  the  mysteries  of  the  needle,  "  in  fine  em- 
broidery with  every  variety  of  lace  and  cobweb  stitch,"  and  was 
gifted  with  great  skill  and  celerity  in  all  manner  of  handicraft,  so 
that  in  after-years  "neither  mantua-maker,  tailoress,  or  milliner 
ever   drew  on  the  family  treasury." 

Belonging  to  a  family  distinguished  in  both  branches  of  her 
ancestry,  and  residing,  while  her  father  lived,  in  the  centre  of  the 
village  of  Guilford,  which  could  boast  that  more  than  four-fifths 
of  its  original  population  belonged  to  families  with  coats-of- 
arms  in  Great  Britain,  and  afterwards  taken  to  the  home  of  her 
grandfather,  General  Ward,  who  was  the  foremost  man  of  the 
town  and  one  of  the  leading  men  in  the  State,  and  who  kept 
open  house  to  all  strangers,  she  enjoyed  the  best  social  advan- 
tages which  the  times  afforded. 

Tall  and  beautiful  in  form  and  feature,  with  a  winning  and  yet 
commanding  presence,  "  she  was  so  sensitive  and  of  so  great 
natural  timidity  that  she  never  spoke  in  company  or  before  stran- 
gers without  blushing,  and  was  absolutely  unable  in  after-life  to 
conform  to  the  standard  of  what  was  expected  of  a  pastor's  wife 
and  lead  the  devotions  in  the  weekly  female   prayer-meeting." 

She  was  early  confirmed  in  the  Episcopal  Church  ;  her  par- 
ents, although  both  from  strictly  Puritan  families,  having  joined 
that  denomination  upon  their  marriage.  They  had  held  through 
all  the  Revolutionary  struggle  to  their  loyalty  to  King  George, 
and  this  had  subjected  them  to  the  determined  opposition  of 
their  neighbors,  and  stamped  the  family,  perhaps,  with  something 
of  that  independence  of    character  which  opposition  to  a  pre- 


24  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

vailing   popular    sentiment  is  adapted  to  give,   and  which  is  so» 
marked  a  feature  in  her  descendants. 

Converted  when  she  was  but  five  years  eld,  and  scarcely 
remembering  the  time  when  she  did  not  go  with  her  joys  and 
sorrows  to  God  in  prayer,  and  next  to  the  oldest  in  a  family  of 
ten  children,  her  mother  a  widow,  and  all  dependent  upon  the 
grandfather,  she  early  learned  that  patience,  self-control,  effi- 
ciency, and  unselfishness  that  characterized  her  through  life  and 
left  in  her  old  home  at  Nutplains,  as  Mrs.  Stowe  tells  us,  tradi- 
tions like  these  :  "  Your  mother  never  spoke  an  angry  word  in 
her  life."  "Your  mother  never  told  a  lie."  And  from  the 
husband  such  a  testimony  as  this  :  "  She  experienced  resigna- 
tion, if  any  one  ever  did.  I  never  saw  the  like,  so  entire,  without 
reservation  or  shadow  of  turning.  In  no  exigency  was  she  taken 
by  surprise.  She  was  just  there,  quiet  as  an  angel  from  above.  I 
never  heard  a  murmur  ;  and  if  ever  there  was  a  perfect  mind  as 
respects  submission,  it  was  hers.  I  never  witnessed  a  movement 
of  the  least  degree  of  selfishness  ;  and  if  there  ever  was  any  such 
thing  in  the  world  as  disinterestedness,  she  had  it." 

Xo  one  reading  her  history  will  think  that  Henry  Ward 
exaggerated  when,  speaking  of  her  and  her  influence  upon  him, 
he  said  :  "  There  are  few  borri  into  this  world  that  are  her 
equals.  She  was  a  woman  of  extraordinary  graces  and  gifts  ;  a 
woman  not  demonstrative,  with  a  profound  philosophical  nature, 
of  a  wonderful  depth  of  affection,  and  with  a  serenity  that  was 
simply  charming.  From  her  I  received  my  love  of  the  beautiful, 
my  poetic  temperament  ;  from  her  also  I  received  simplicity  and 
childlike  faith  in  God." 

And  again  :  "  My  communion  with  nature  arose  from  the 
mother  in  me.  Because  my  mother  was  an  inspired  woman,  who 
saw  God  in  nature  as  really  as  in  the  Book,  and  she  bestowed 
that  temperament  upon  me,  and  I  came  gradually  to  feel  that, 
aside  from  God  as  revealed  in  the  past,  there  was  a  God  with  an 
everlasting  present  around  about  me." 

With  these  elements  of  a  more  personal  nature  also  appear 
certain  family  traits.  As  we  saw  how,  from  the  father's  side,  the 
old  anvil  was  constantly  making  itself  heard  in  the  strong,  sturdy 
qualities  of  the  Beecher  stock,  so  shall  we  see  features  from  the 
ancestry  on  the  mother's  side  coming  to  him  almost  unchanged. 
The  loyalty  represented  by  the  oak-tree,  and  the  virtue  displayed 


RE  I '.    UK. XK  ) ■    ll'A  A'/)  BEE  (  III:  A\  2  5 

at  Louisburg,  will  constantly  show  themselves.    Who  that  has 

seen  him  standing,  now  tor  the  black  man  in  the  face  of  the 
adverse  popular  sentiment  of  his  time  in  obedience  to  his 
own  convictions  of  right,  now  governing  his  political  actions 
by  the  same  authority,  and  anon  following  his  religious  convic- 
tions wherever  they  led  him,  can  have  failed  to  see,  in  him,  the 
oak-tree  standing  in  the  clover-field  with  the  motto  written  upon 
its  shield,  in  letters  of  light,  u  Loyalty  and  Truth" t  In  his  con- 
stant advocacy  of  reform,  in  his  early  and  strenuous  opposition  to 
intemperance,  appears  "  Louisburg  "  again,  written  this  time,  not 
upon  silver,  but  upon  life  and  character — the  Ward  and  the 
Foote  families  showing  in  him  the  characteristics  they  had  won. 

More  than  this,  probably  no  lines  could  better  illustrate  the 
New  England  race-elements,  the  union  of  its  democracy  and  its 
gentry,  the  sturdy  independence  of  its  homes  and  its  native  ability 
in  war  and  peace,  its  intellectual  and  its  spiritual  independence, 
its  quaint  humor  and  its  shrewd  common  sense,  than  those  that 
united  in  him  from  both  the  parental  roots. 

He  was  a  natural  product  of  the  New  England  stock,  tem- 
pered and  sweetened  by  the  broader  traditions  of  the  more  aristo- 
cratic blood  of  the  Cavalier,  of  New  England  institutions  and 
New  England  character.  And  since  New  England,  thus  enriched, 
illustrates  the  whole  land,  and  by  reason  of  the  diffusion  of  her 
blood  has  made  her  characteristics  national,  he  was  a  typical 
American,  standing  with  unusual  ability  and  conscientiousness 
where  every  true  American  feels  that  he  ought  to  stand — for 
right  and  liberty.  This,  we  doubt  not,  was  in  part  the  ground  of 
his  national  popularity  and  influence ;  he  was  felt  to  be  so 
thoroughly  American.  He  represented  us  as  do  our  national  col- 
ors and  our  battle-flags,  and  we  were  proud  of  him,  grew  enthusi- 
astic over  him,  and  men  that  never  saw  him  loved  him.  And 
since  these  characteristics  are  but  the  product  of  English  institu- 
tions and  the  putting  forth  of  Anglo-Saxon  tendencies  which  were 
always  advancing,  always  protesting  against  some  old  abuse,  and 
always  seeking  the  recognition  of  some  right — now  at  Runny- 
mede  among  the  barons,  and  now  at  Westminster  among  the 
Commons  ;  now  taking  up  the  question  of  negro-slavery,  and 
now  the  Irish  question ;  always  hopeful,  expectant,  progres- 
sive— and  America  is  but,  as  he  claimed,  "  the  better  England 
transplanted,"    and    he    but    "  an    Englishman    from   a  broader 


26  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

England,"  a  continental  instead  of  an  insular  one,  he  was  hailed 
by  all  the  English-speaking  people  as  belonging  to  them  as  do 
King  Alfred   and  Shakspere. 

As  we  go  on  we  shall  find  many  other  influences  at  work — 
influences  of  nature,  of  books,  of  college  and  profession  ;  but 
thus  early  we  can  see  that,  more  than  of  any  and  all  the  rest, 
Henry  Ward  Beecher  was  the  product  of  New  England  parent- 
age, full-veined  with  English  traditions  and  race  characteristics. 

The  courtship  of  Lyman  Beecher  and  Roxana  Foote  took 
place  in  1798.  It  was  marked  by  the  interpenetration  of  reli- 
gious sentiment  and  earthly  love,  and  was  a  true  preparation  for 
home-making,  and  of  such  a  home  as  should  help  to  form  the 
remarkable  personality  of  H.  W.   Beecher. 

The  letters  that  passed  between  them  during  this  year  give 
evidence  of  the  strong  love  of  those  who,  while  having  still  upon 
them  the  dew  of  their  youth,  have  each  found  in  the  other  the 
chosen  mate — a  love  than  which  earth  has  no  more  influential  nor 
beautiful  thing  to  give.  They  also  show  us  the  two  akin  in 
intellectual  powers  and  pursuits,  and  equally  enjoying  the  trea- 
sures which  the  world  of  letters  opened  to  them.  But  most 
prominent  of  all  matters  referred  to  in  these  letters  are  religious 
questions  and  personal  religious  experiences.  They  revolve 
around  "  the  evidences  "  and  similar  subjects  with  an  absorption 
of  interest  that  must  seem  almost  incomprehensible  to  modern 
lovers.  In  the  perfect  and  unrestrained  communion  of  heart 
with  heart  these  two  speak  of  the  sweet  and  wonderful  expe- 
riences that  they  have  enjoyed  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord, 
share  their  common  hopes  and  anticipations  of  the  coming  glory 
of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom,  and  strive  to  help  one  another  to  a 
better  understanding  of  the  best  things  of  God.  Such  thoughts 
and  efforts  as  these  undoubtedly  went  far  toward  laying  the 
foundation  of  that  "  intimacy  that  existed  throughout  the  whole 
range  of  their  being,"  and  for  that  deep  and  unswerving  regard 
and  confidence  which  each  cherished  for  the  other  until  death. 
She  rested  upon  him,  and  he  always  looked  upon  her  as  intellec- 
tually and  morally  the  stronger  and  better  portion  of  himself. 
The  very  differences  in  their  nature  and  education  contributed 
to  this  large  and  beautiful  unity  and  confidence.  While  re- 
sembling each  other  in  many  things,  in  others  they  were  the 
complements  of  each  other.     He  was  quick  and  impulsive,  she, 


A'  E I '.  HE XRY  WA  RD  B  E  E  CHER.  2  7 

perfectly  serene  and  self- poised.  He  was  logical,  she  was  intui- 
tive as  well,  lie  was  of  the  Independents,  she  was  an  Episco- 
palian. From  such  a  union,  so  sincere  and  broad,  we  may 
expect   a   happy   home. 

Judging  from  these  letters,  we  should  say  also  that  whenever 
these  two  shall  build  their  home  they  will  build  it  strong  and 
high.  Not  only  will  love  be  there,  with  all  its  attractions,  and 
intellect  with  its  stimulus  and  power,  but  the  grand  things  of 
heaven  will  be  builded  into  it.  And  wherever  it  shall  be  es- 
tablished, whether  by  the  sea-shore  at  East  Hampton  or  among 
the  hills  of  Litchfield,  it  will  have  a  broad  horizon  ;  it  will  look 
out  upon  something  wider  and  deeper  than  the  sea  and  higher 
than  the  mountains.  The  high  things  of  God  will  always  be 
kept  in  view ;  His  broad,  deep,  measureless  purposes  will  be 
held  within  the  range  of  its  contemplation,  and  His  presence  will 
be  felt  in  shaping  its  policy  and  in  giving  vitality  to  its  atmos- 
phere. 

From  such  a  home  we  shall  expect  children  that  shall  have 
power  in  the  world. 

They  were  married  at  Nutplains,  September  19,  1799. 

"  Roxana's  friends  were  all  present  and  all  my  folks  from 
New  Haven."  .  .  .  "  Nobody  ever  married  more  heart  and  hand 
than  we."  Then  came  the  packing  up;  "the  candle-stand, 
bureau,  clothing,  bedding,  linen,  and  stuffs  generally,"  and  the 
going  over  by  sloop  to  Long  Island.  • 

Their  life  in  East  Hampton,  Long  Island,  was  that  of  two 
who  believed,  without  one  shadow  of  doubt,  in  their  call  of  God, 
and  who  took  up  their  work,  not  only  with  the  firm  grasp  of  duty, 
but  with  the  enthusiasm  of  devout,  self-sacrificing  love.  Their 
faith  was  tested  by  his  long-continued  sickness,  by  the  death  of 
one  of  their  children,  and  by  the  numerous  discouragements  of  a 
country  minister ;  but  it  stood  the  test,  deepening  and  brighten- 
ing under  trial. 

It  was  a  barren  place  to  which  they  had  come,  but  Lyman 
Beecher  brought  such  vigorous  faith  and  added  to  it  such  en- 
thusiastic labors,  now  in  the  home  church,  now  in  the  school- 
houses  of  the  surrounding  districts,  and  now  among  the  Indians 
at  Montauk  Point,  that  he  made  the  whole  district  fruitful.  The 
field  was  a  narrow  one,  but  by  the  interest  awakened  by  his 
sermons,  especially  the  one   upon   duelling  called  forth  by  the 


28 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


death  of  Alexander  Hamilton  from  the  pistol  of  Aaron  Burr,  he 
broadened  it  until  his  parish  stretched  across  the  Atlantic. 


Church  in  which   Rev.   Lyman  Beecher  preached,  in   East  Hampton,   L.  I, 


The  wants  of  a  young  family  made  some  effort  necessary  ta 
eke  out  the  meagre  salary  of  four  hundred  dollars,  and  a  school 
for  girls  was  decided  upon,  to  be  kept  by  Mrs.  Beecher.  It  was 
successful  in  every  respect  but  financially,  and  moderately  so  in. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  29 

that  ;  but  it  did  not  bring  the  relief  that  was  sought,  and  there 
came  a  necessity  to  change  tor  a  field  where  sufficient  salary 
could  be  had  to  support  the  family  without  the  harassments  of 
other  and  unpastoral   labors. 

A  marked  providence,  as  it  seemed  to  Mr.  Beecher,  opened 
the  way  to  his  preaching  on  trial  in  Litchfield,  Connecticut.  He 
made  a  good  impression  ;  the  people  were  unanimous  and  eager 
in  their  call  ;  the  Presbytery  gave  its  consent  ;  and  now,  without 
a  doubt  that  it  is  according  to  the  will  of  God,  the  decision 
is  made,  and  the  home  which  had  first  been  planted  within 
the  sound  of  the  ocean  surf  at  East  Hampton,  Long  Island,  in 
1799,  was  transplanted  to  the  quiet  inland  village  of  Litchfield 
in  1S10. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Litchfield — Situation — Natural  Features — Early  Settlers — Social  and  Moral 
Advantages — Patriotism — North  Street  Described — The  Beecher 
Home — Birth  of  Henry  Ward — The  Times  at  Home  and  Abroad  — 
His  Birth-Mark. 

AS  Henry  Ward  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  parents  that 
bore  him,  so  he  was  with  the  place  in  which  he  was  born. 
"Surely  old  Litchfield,"  he  says,  "was  a  blessed  place 
for  one's  birth  and  childhood.  Although  there  were  no  moun- 
tains, there  were  hills,  the  oldest-born  of  mountains,  high,  round, 
and  innumerable.  Great  trees  there  were,  full  of  confidences 
with  the  wind  that  chastised  them  in  winter  and  kissed  and  ca- 
ressed them  all  the  summer." 

The  hills  referred  to  were  "  Prospect  "  and  "  Mount  Tom  "  on 
the  west,  "Chestnut  Hill"  on  the  east,  and  others  like  them  but 
unnamed — the  " high,  round,  and  innumerable"  ones  of  which 
he  speaks,  and  which  together  formed,  with  their  sloping  sides 
and  valleys  between,  that  broad  and  irregular  plateau  of  elevated 
land,  extending  for  miles  on  either  side,  in  the  midst  of  which 
the  village  of  Litchfield  is  situated.  A  country  of  hills,  with  that 
wide  and  picturesque  horizon  which  only  such  a  landscape  can 
furnish,  where  the  irregular  outline  appears  as  walls  and  watch- 
towers  for  the  protection  of  the  home  territory,  with  here  and 
there  an  open  door,  through  which  the  imagination  of  youth  or 
the  feet  of  maturer  years  may  pass  out  into  the  great  world  of 
sunshine  or  of  cloud  beyond. 

Litchfield  Hill  itself,  on  which  the  village  stands,  is  more  than 
a  thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  "high  and  broad-backed,"  and 
belongs,  with  all  its  fellows,  to  the  Green  Mountain  range,  which, 
beginning  near  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  sweeps  in  an  irregular 
curve  to  the  seaboard  at  Long  Island  Sound,  the  back-bone  of 
this  great  New  England  peninsula. 

High  enough  to  be  breezy  and  healthy,  but  not  so  high  as  to 
be  unfertile,  and  sloping  to  the  south,  it  afforded  then,  as  now,  all 

3^ 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  31 

the   inducements  for  residence  which  sun,  soil,  pure  air,  and  a 

beautiful  landscape  could  furnish. 

Lakes,  without  which  no  Landscape  is  perfect,  were  added  : 
Little  Pond  to  the  southwest,  and  Big  Bantam  Lake  beyond,  were 
the  ones  that  were  visible  from  the  village,  out  of  a  large  number 
that  can  be  found  in  the  township  ;  but  the  Sawmill  Pond,  where 
Henry  Ward  caught  his  first  fish,  with  an  alder-stick  for  a  pole 
and  a  bent  pin  for  a  hook — caught  it  so  thoroughly  that  it  was 
dashed  in  pieces  upon  the  rocks  behind  him — has  disappeared 
with  the  tearing  away  of  the  dam  that  held  it. 

Brooks  ran  down  between  the  hills  and  sang  their  way  through 
the  meadows,  each  one  offering  some  new  feature  to  the  land- 
scape, and  each  a  field  of  new  discovery  for  inquisitive  youth. 

Woods,  made  up  of  every  variety  of  tree  and  shrub  native 
to  our  latitude,  where  nuts  grew  and  all  kinds  of  small  game 
abounded,  where  crows  and  now  and  then  a  hen-hawk  built  their 
nests,  were  in  easy  reach  upon  the  slopes  of  the  hills  both  to  the 
west  and  east.  Ledges  of  rock  to  the  north  were  the  lair  of 
wildcats,  a  vermin  so  numerous  seventy-five  years  ago  as  to  be  a 
serious  pest  to  the  farmers  ;  and  stone  walls,  where  woodchucks 
retreated  from  the  clover-fields  and  thought  themselves  safe, 
were  the    usual  division-fences  for  the  fields. 

There  were  other  things  that  were  equally  pleasing  to  a  boy's 
fancy,  and  perhaps  equally  influential  in  his  education.  The 
lakes,  streams,  and  forests  of  the  tow;n  had  been  the  favorite  fish- 
ing and  hunting  ground  of  the  Indians  ;  arrow-heads  were  occa- 
sionally picked  up  on  the  lake  shore  or  turned  up  by  the  plough- 
share upon  the  hillside  ;  and,  best  of  all,  Mount  Tom  was  one 
of  the  series  of  stations  where  blazed  the  signal-fires  which  the 
Indians  of  this  region  built  to  warn  their  brethren  of  the  whole 
territory  between  the  Housatonic  and  Naugatuck  rivers  of  the 
approach  of  their  enemies,  the  fierce  Mohawks. 

Litchfield,  in  short,  was  the  paradise  of  a  birth-place  for  any 
boy.  It  was  paradise,  school-house,  gymnasium,  church,  and  ca- 
thedral to  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  In  it  he  experienced  his  sweet- 
est pleasures,  learned  his  best  lessons,  gained  control  of  his  pow- 
ers, and  offered  his  first  worship.  He  breathed  its  pure  air, 
climbed  its  rocks,  wandered  in  its  woods,  wrestled  with  its  winter 
storms,  and  in  this  way  laid  the  foundation  for  that  superb 
health  for  which  he  was  remarkable  through  life. 


32  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

With  the  hunger  and  inquisitiveness  of  a  growing  boy,  he 
searched  nature's  storehouse  of  fruits  and  nuts,  which  opens  with 
the  wintergreen  plums  and  squaw-berries  of  the  melting  snow- 
time  of  spring,  and  continues,  a  house  of  plenty  for  all  that  know 
her  secrets — partridges,  squirrels,  and  boys — until  the  snow  covers 
the  ground  in  December,  and  so  gained  that  habit  of  investiga- 
tion into  the  things  of  nature,  and  of  close  observation,  that  dis- 
tinguished him  ever  after. 

He  lay  on  the  ground  and  looked  up  into  the  blue  sky  and  the 
moving  tree-tops  for  hours  together,  and  listened  to  the  voices 
of  spring-time  and  eventide,  and  in  this  way,  as  he  tells  us,  re- 
ceived the  first  distinct  religious  impressions  that  he  remembered. 
His  nature,  which  seemed  closed  almost  to  the  verge  of  stupidity 
to  the  rules  of  syntax  and  the  answers  in  the  Westminster  Cate- 
chism, was  wide  open  and  receptive  to  all  the  processes  and  in- 
fluences of  nature  around  him.  He  drank  them  in,  and  they  be- 
came not  only  a  vast  storehouse  of  facts  and  images  to  which  he 
resorted  in  after-life  for  illustrations,  but,  even  more  than  that,  a 
very  part  of  himself.  The  tree  that  so  often  appeared  in  his 
sermons  was  made  from  those  up  whose  trunks  he  had  climbed, 
in  whose  shade  he  had  lain,  and  to  the  whisperings  of  whose 
leaves  he  had  listened  in  boyhood.  The  spring  which  so  often 
served  in  illustrating  spiritual  truths  was  but  the  description  of 
those  that  burst  out  from  the  foot  of  Chestnut  or  of  Prospect 
Hill,  and  the  flowers  so  frequently  referred  to  in  the  pulpit  or  in 
private  conversation  were  such  as  he  had  grown  familiar  with  by 
the  roadside,  in  the  meadows  or  the  forests  of  his  country  home. 
The  moving  of  the  great  cloud-shadows  across  the  fields  of  Litch- 
field, the  blue  of  its  skies,  the  reddening  of  its  mornings  and  the 
gold  of  its  sunsets,  the  flash  of  its  sunlight  upon  the  lake,  its 
wealth  of  apple-blossoms,  the  exquisite  beauty  of  its  violets  hid- 
den away  in  fence-corners,  the  grace  of  its  elm-branches,  the  rug- 
gedness  of  its  oaks,  the  strength  of  its  rocks,  the  soft  catkins 
of  its  willows,  its  meadow  flower-garden  of  clover,  daisy,  and 
buttercup,  the  gorgeousness  of  its  forests  in  autumn,  the  gurgle 
of  its  brooks,  the  song  of  its  birds,  the  plaintive  voices  of  its  twi- 
light, the  gentle  breathings  of  its  August  winds  and  the  fierce 
rattle  of  its  December  storms,  were  all  absorbed  by  his  receptive 
nature  and  continually  reappeared  in  his  writings  and  talk  of 
after-years.     They   added   the  grace  and  beauty  native  to  them 


RE  I '.  HENR  V  WA  1<D  BEE  ( 'HER, 


33 


to  all  that  he  wrote  <>r  spoke,  and  were  is  part  the  secret  of  that 
(  harm  in  his  words  which  attached  and  interested  all  alike. 
They  did  more  than  this  :  they  prepared  him  to  be  an  interpre- 
ter of  nature  to  others,  and,  when  he  had  become  equally  well 
equipped  with  a  rich  spiritual  experience,  they  fitted  him,  as  we 
shall  see  farther  on,  to  be  the  reconciler  of  a  spiritual  faith  and  a 
material  science. 

It  was  not  an  unimportant  thing,  but  one  of  God's  beautiful 
provisions,  that  Henry  Ward  Beecher  was  born  in  Litchfield, 
where  there  is  more  of  nature  to  the  square  foot,  as  we  believe, 
than  in  any  other  place  on  the  globe  ;  to  learn  his  first  lessons  in 
the  beautiful  school  of  her  flowers,  birds,  brooks,  meadows,  pas- 
ture lands,  hill-tops,  and  forests. 

"Dear  old  Litchfield!  I  love  thee  still,  even  if  thou  didst 
me  the  despite  of  pushing  me  into  life  upon  thy  high  and  windy 
hilltop  !  Where  did  the  spring  ever  break  forth  more  joyously 
and  sing  at  escaping  from  winter,  as  the  children  of  Israel  did 
when  that  woman's-rights  Miriam  chanted  her  song  of  victory  ? 
Where  did  the  torrid  summer  ever  find  a  lovelier  place  in  which 
to  cool  its  beams  ?  What  trees  ever  murmured  more  gently 
to  soft  winds,  or  roared  more  lion-like  when  storms  were 
abroad  ? 

"  It  was  there  that  we  learned  to  fish,  to  ride  a  horse  alone,  to 
do  the  barn  chores,  to  cut  and  split  wood,  to  listen  at  evening  to 
the  croaking  frogs  and  whistling  tree-toads,  to  go  to  meeting  and 
go  to  sleep,  to  tear  holes  in  new  clothes  ;  there  we  learned  to  hoe, 
to  mow  away  hay,  to  weed  onions,  to  stir  up  ministers'  horses 
writh  an  unusual  speed  when  ridden  to  water  ;  there  we  went 
a-wandering  up  and  down  forest-edges,  and  along  the  crooked 
brooks  in  flower-pied  meadows,  dreaming  about  things  not  to  be 
found  in  any  catechism." 

Equally  marked  was  Litchfield  at  that  day  for  its  social  and 
moral  as  for  its  natural  advantages.  Its  early  settlers,  mostly 
from  the  excellent  stock  from  which  the  colonies  of  Hartford 
and  Windsor  were  formed,  were  men  of  broad  and  liberal  mould, 
and  began  their  work  upon  this  hilltop  in  a  characteristic  fashion. 
They  laid  out  their  streets  and  staked  off  the  village  common 
with  such  generous  breadth  that  they  remain  the  delight  of  resi- 
dents and  the  admiration  of  strangers  to  this  day.  They  made 
such  liberal  provision  for  education  and  religion  that  the  settle- 


34  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ment  soon  became  noted  for  the  excellency  of  its  schools  and  the 
commanding  influence  of  its  pulpit.* 

The  law-school  of  Judges  Reeve  and  Gould,  and  the  young 
ladies'  school  of  the  Misses  Pierce,  made  it  an  educational  centre 
scarcely  second  in  the  breadth  of  its  influence  to  any  in  the  land, 
and  attracted  a  class  of  residents  of  high  social  position. 

Its  courts  gathered  from  time  to  time  some  of  the  leading 
members  of  the  bar  from  the  whole  country,  not  for  a  few  hours, 
as  now  with  our  railroad  facilities,  but  for  days  and  weeks  to- 
gether. All  these  things  helped  to  create  a  very  high  order  of 
public  spirit — that  force  which,  often  wholly  unregarded,  is  yet  so 
powerful  in  moulding  the  character  and  giving  direction  to  the  life. 

One  other  element  in  this  communal  influence  must  not  be 
omitted — its  intense  patriotism.  From  the  beginning  to  the 
close  of  the  Revolutionary  struggle  the  records  of  the  county 
of  Litchfield  are  stamped  with  the  evidence  of  the  most  enthu- 
siastic loyalty  to  the  cause  of  the  struggling  colonies.  At  the 
time  of  the  Boston  Port  Bill,  Litchfield  had  forwarded  a  liberal 
contribution  for  the  aid  of  the  poor  of  that  city.  When  the 
equestrian  statue  of  King  George,  of  gilded  lead,  was  missing 
from  the  Bowling  Green  in  New  York,  it  was  shortly  found  in 
the  dwelling-house  of  Oliver  Wolcott  in  this  village,  was  melted 
down  by  his  daughters  and  their  friends,  and  furnished  forty 
thousand  bullets,  which  were  sent  to  our  soldiers  in  the  field,  to 
be  afterwards  forwarded  by  them,  from  the  muzzles  of  their 
muskets,  to  the  king's  Hessians,  with  the  hissing  compliments  of 
the  American  colonies. 

No  town  excelled  her  in  the  proportionate  number  or  quality 
of  the  men  she  sent  into  the  field  (at  one  time  every  able-bodied 
man  in  the  town  being,  it  is  said,  at  the  front),  nor  in  the  suffer- 
ing and  loss  which   they  endured.     Thirty  out   of    a  company 


*  Out  of  sixty-four  allotments  into  which  the  town  was  divided,  one 
was  to  be  given  to  the  first  minister,  to  be  his  and  descend  to  his  heirs 
for  ever;  a  second  was  to  be  reserved  for  the  use  of  the  minister  during  his 
ministry,  and  a  third  was  reserved  for  the  benefit  of  a  school.  While  as 
yet  three  houses,  one  in  the  centre  of  the  present  village,  and  one  on 
either  side  a  mile  distant,  were  picketed  and  garrisoned  for  protection 
against  the  Indians,  and  while  there  were  but  sixty  adult  male  inhabitants, 
they  built  their  first  church  edifice,  with  a  Sabbath-Day  House  for  the  better 
accommodation  of  the  people. 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECNER.  35 

of  thirty-six  who  surrendered  at  Fort  Washington,  New  York, 
"died  miserable  deaths  from  cold,  hunger,  thirst,  suffocation, 
disease,  and  the  vilest  cruelties  from  those  to  whom  they  had  sur- 
rendered on  a  solemn  promise  of  honorable  treatment."  This 
had  made  Ethan  Allen,  a  native  of  this  village,  and,  as  is  well 
known,  a  professed  infidel,  grind  his  teeth  and  exclaim:  "  My 
faith  in  my  creed  is  shaken;  there  ought  to  be  a  hell  for  such 
infernal  scoundrels  as  that  Lowrie,"  the  officer  in  charge  of  the 
prisoners.  Nor  were  these  days  so  remote  that  their  influence 
was  unfelt.  In  1810  the  spirit  of  '76  was  not  seriously  dimin- 
ished, and  many  of  the  principal  actors  in  the  stirring  scenes  of 
the  Revolutionary  struggle  were  still  alive.  Colonel  Tallmadge, 
one  of  the  most  dashing  and  able  cavalry  officers  of  the  army, 
Governor  Oliver  Wolcott,  Jr.,  a  member  of  Washington's  cabi- 
net, and  many  other  soldiers  of  the  Revolution  and  actors  of 
less  note,  were  residents  of  the  village  at  the  time  of  the  coming 
here  of  Lyman  Beecher.  When  we  note  the  burning  patriotism 
which  was  always  so  marked  a  characteristic  of  Henry  Ward, 
we  must  remember  that  he  drank  it  in  in  his  youth  from  its 
primitive  sources  among  the  old  soldiers  of  Litchfield. 

We  give  his  description  of  the  village  as  it  appeared  to  him 
in  his  childhood,  although  a  part  of  it  is  out  of  chronological 
order.  It  is  found  in  an  article  entitled  "  Litchfield  Revisited," 
written  in  1856: 

"  The  morning  after  our  arrival  in  Litchfield  we  sallied  forth 
alone.  The  day  was  high  and  wide,  full  of  stillness,  and  serene- 
ly radiant.  As  we  carried  our  present  life  up  the  North  Street 
we  met  at  every  step  our  boyhood  life  coming  down.  There 
were  the  old  trees,  but  looking  not  so  large  as  to  our  young  eyes. 
The  stately  road  had,  however,  been  bereaved  of  the  buttonball 
trees,  which  had  been  crippled  by  disease.  But  the  old  elms  re- 
tained a  habit  peculiar  to  Litchfield.  There  seemed  to  be  a  cur- 
rent of  wind  which  at  times  passes  high  up  in  the  air  over  the 
town,  and  which  moves  the  tops  of  the  trees,  while  on  the 
ground  there  is  no  movement  of  wind.  How  vividly  did  that 
sound  from  above  bring  back  early  days,  when  for  hours  we 
lay  upon  the  windless  grass  and  watched  the  top  leaves  flutter, 
and  marked  how  still  were  the  under  leaves  of  the  same  tree  ! 

"  One  by  one  came  the  old  houses.  On  the  corner  stood  and 
stands   the   jail — awful    building   to  young  sinners  !     We  never 


36  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

passed  its  grated  windows  without  a  salutary  chill.  The  old 
store,  and  same  old  name,  Buell,  on  it  ;  the  bank,  and  its  long, 
lean  legs  spindling  up  to  hold  the  shelf  up  under  the  roof  !  The 
Colonel  Tallmadge  house,  that  used  to  seem  so  grand  that  it  was 
cold,  but  whose  cherry-trees  in  the  front  yard  seemed  warm 
enough  and  attractive  to  our  longing  lips  and  watery  mouths. 
How  well  do  we  remember  the  stately  gait  of  the  venerable  col- 
onel of  Revolutionary  memory  !  We  don't  recollect  that  he  ever 
spoke  to  us  or  greeted  us;  not  because  he  was  austere  or  unkind, 
but  from  a  kind  of  military  reserve.  We  thought  him  good  and 
polite,  but  should  as  soon  have  thought  of  climbing  the  church- 
steeple  as  of  speaking  to  one  living  so  high  and  venerable  above 
all  boys ! 

"  Then  came  Judge  Gould's  !  Did  we  not  remember  that 
and  the  faces  that  used  to  illuminate  it  ?  The  polished  and 
polite  judge,  the  sons  and  daughters,  the  little  office  in  the  yard, 
the  successive  classes  of  law  students  that  received  that  teaching 
which  has  since  so  often  honored  both  bar  and  bench.  Here, 
too,  we  stopped  to  retrace  the  very  place  where,  being  set  on  by 
a  fiery  young  Southern  blood,  without  any  cause  that  we  knew 
of  then  or  can  remember  now,  we  undertook  to  whip  one  of 
Judge  Gould's  sons,  and  did  not  do  it.  We  were  never  satisfied 
with  the  result,  and  think  if  the  thing  could  be  reviewed  now  it 
might  turn  out  differently. 

"  There,  too,  stood  Dr.  Catlin's  house,  looking  as  if  the  rubs 
of  time  had  polished  it  instead  of  injuring.  Next  there  seemed 
to  our  puzzled  memory  a  vacancy.  Ought  there  not  to  be  about 
there  a  Holmes  house,  to  which  we  used  to  go  and  get  baskets 
of  Virgaloo  pears,  and  were  inwardly  filled,  as  a  satisfying  method 
of  keeping  us  honest  toward  the  pears  in  the  basket  ? 

"  But  Dr.  Sheldon's  house  is  all  right.  Dear  old  Dr.  Shel- 
don !  We  began  to  get  well  as  soon  as  he  came  into  the  house  ; 
or,  if  the  evil  spirit  delayed  a  little,  '  Cream-o'-tartar  with  hot 
water  poured  upon  it  and  sweetened  '  finished  the  work.  He 
had  learned,  long  before  the  days  of  homoeopathy,  that  a  doctor's 
chief  business  is  to  keep  parents  from  giving  their  children  medi- 
cine, so  that  nature  may  have  a  fair  chance  at  the  disease  with- 
out having  its  attention  divided  or  diverted. 

"  But  now  we  stop  before  Miss  Pierce's — a  name  known  in 
thousands  of  families,  where  gray-headed  mothers  remember  the 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  $J 

soft  and  gentle  days  of  Litchfield  schooling.    The  fine  resident  e 

is  well  preserved,  and  time  has  been  gentle  within  likewise.  But 
the  school-house  is  gone,  and  she  that  for  so  many  years  kept  it 
busy  is  gone,  and  the  throng  that  have  crossed  its  threshold 
brood  the  whole  globe  with  offices  of  maternal  love.  The 
Litchfield  Law  School  in  the  days  of  Judge  Tapping  Reeve  and 
Judge  Gould,  and  Miss  Pierce's  Female  School,  were  in  their  day 
two  very  memorable  institutions,  and,  though  since  supplied  by 
others  upon  a  larger  scale,  there  are  few  that  will  have  performed 
so  much,  if  we  take  into  account  the  earliness  of  the  times  and 
the  fact  that  they  were  pioneers  and  parents  of  those  that  have 
supplanted  them.  But  they  are  gone,  the  buildings  moved  off, 
and  the  ground  smoothed  and  soft  to  the  foot  with  green  grass. 
No  more  shall  the  setting  sun  see  Litchfield  streets  thronged  with 
young  gentlemen  and  ladies,  and  filling  the  golden  air  with  laugh- 
ter or  low  converse  which,  unlaughing  then,  made  life  musical 
for  ever  after  ! 

"  But  where  is  the  Brace  house  ?  An  old  red  house — red  once, 
but  picked  by  the  winds  and  washed  by  rains  till  the  color  was 
neutral,  thanks  to  the  elements.  The  old  elm-trees  guard  the 
spot,  a  brotherhood  as  noble  as  these  eyes  have  ever  seen,  lifted 
high  up,  and  in  the  part  nearest  heaven  locking  their  arms  to- 
gether and  casting  back  upon  their  separate  trunks  an  undi- 
vided shade.  So  are  many,  separate  in  root  and  trunk,  united 
far  up  by  their  heaven-touching  thoughts  and  affections. 

11  Mrs.  Lord's  house  is  the  only  one  now  before  we  reach  our 
own  native  spot.  This,  too,  holds  its  own  and  is  fertile  in  mem- 
ories. Across  the  way  lived  Sheriff  Landon,  famous  for  dry  wit 
and   strong  politics. 

"But  south  of  him  lived  the  greatest  man  in  town,  Mr.  Par- 
ker, who  owned  the  stages  ;  and  the  wittiest  man  in  town,  with  us 
boys,  was  Hiram  Barnes,  that  drove  stage  for  him  !  To  be  sure, 
neither  of  them  was  eminent  for  learning  or  civil  influence,  but, 
in  that  temple  which  boys'  imaginations  make,  a  stage  proprietor 
and  a  stage-driver  stand  forth  as  grand  as  Minerva  in  the  Par- 
thenon ! 

"  But  there  are  houses  on  the  other  side.  The  eastern  side 
of  Litchfield  North  Street,  like  the  eastern  side  of  Broadway, 
was  never'  so  acceptable  to  fashion,  albeit  some  memorable 
names  lived  there.      It  was  our  srood  fortune  to  be  born  on  the 


38  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

west  side  of  the  street.  We  know  not  what  blessings  must  have 
descended  upon  us  from  having  been  born  on  the  fashionable 
side  ;  one  shudders  to  think  how  near  he  escaped  being  born  on 
the  other,  the  east  side  of  the  street." 

Into  this  village  Lyman  Beecher  brought  his  family  in  1810. 
The  dwelling  had  been  described  by  himself  :  "  The  house  I 
shall  purchase  is  in  a  beautiful  situation,  is  convenient,  has  a  large 
kitchen,  a  well-room,  a  wood-house,  besides  two  barns  and  a 
shop  on  the  premises,  and  one  and  a  half  acres  of  land ;  price, 
about  $1,350  ;  and  there  is  a  good  young  orchard  near  for  sale, 
so  that  we  can  keep  a  horse  and  one  or  two  cows  and  have  apples 
of  our  own  from  the  money  we  shall  reserve  after  paying  our 
debts."  A  row  of  quince-trees  "  whose  early  blossoms  were  so 
tender  and  whose  switches  were  so  tough — ah  !  those  trees  used 
to  come  home  very  near  to  me  ! "  was  on  the  north  side  of  the 
house.* 

The  home  circle  was  large  and  varied.  There  were  at  this 
time  the  parents  and  six  children,  "  Sister  Roxana  and  her  little 
group  of  countless  numbers."  ''Aunt  Mary  Hubbard,"  the  mo- 
ther's favorite  sister,  "  spent  much  of  her  time  with  us,  and  some 
of  mother's  favorite  pupils  from  East  Hampton,  who  had  come 
to  attend  Miss  Pierce's  school,  sought  a  home  in  our  family. 
Betsy  Burr,  an  orphan  cousin,  lived  with  us  like  an  adopted 
daughter,  while  the  kitchen  department  was  under  the  care  of  the 
good  and  affectionate  Zillah  and  Rachel,  who  came  with  us  and 
completed  the  home  circle." 

The  circle  was  still  farther  enlarged  by  the  coming  of  Grand- 
ma Beecher  and  Aunt  Esther,  who,  it  will  be  remembered,  was 
Lyman  Beecher's  half-sister — "  a  woman,"  as  Henry  Ward  once 
said,  "  so  good  and  modest  that  she  will  spend  ages  in  heaven 
wondering  how  it  ever  happened  that  she  ever  got  there,  and  that 
all  the  angels  will  be  wondering  why  she  was  not  there  from  all 
eternity."  "  They  occupied  half  of  the  next  house  to  ours  on  the 
way  to  Prospect  Hill,  making  a  place  of  daily  resort  for  some  of 
the  family." 

"  Uncle   Samuel  Foote,"    the  mother's    sea-captain    brother. 

*This  house,  enlarged  by  the  addition  which  Mr.  Beecher  found  it 
necessary  to  make,  still  remains  substantially  as  it  was  seventy  years  ago, 
although  not  upon  the  old  lot.  It  is  now  a  part  of  Dr.  Buel's  hospital  for 
the  insane,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  above  the  original  site. 


39 


40  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  came  among  us,  on  his  return  from  each  voyage,  as  a  sort  of 
brilliant  genius  of  another  sphere,  bringing  gifts  and  wonders 
that  seemed  to  wake  new  faculties  in  all.  Whenever  he  came  to 
Litchfield  he  brought  a  stock  of  new  books,  which  he  and  Aunt 
Mary  read  aloud." 

It  will  be  seen  that,  without  referring  to  other  inmates  of 
the  family,  such  as  boarders  and  visitors,  who  afforded  a  great 
variety,  some  amusing  and  others  instructive,  the  things  which 
Henry  Ward  said  were  "  the  great  treasures  of  a  dwelling — the 
child's  cradle,  the  grandmother's  chair,  the  hearth  and  the  old- 
fashioned  fireplace,  the  table  and  the  window  " — were  all  there, 
and  a  great  many  things  beside. 

There  were  trials,  almost  hardships  we  should  call  them,  as 
appears  from  a  letter  of  Mrs.  Beecher's  dated  January  13,  181 1, 
but  none  of  them  sufficient  to  bring  discouragement  or  destroy 
her  interest  in  scientific  subjects  :  " .  .  .  Would  now  write  you  a 
long  letter,  if  it  were  not  for  several  vexing  circumstances,  such 
as  the  weather  extremely  cold,  storm  violent,  and  no  wood  cut  ; 
Mr.  Beecher  gone,  and  Sabbath  day,  with  company — a  clergy- 
man, a  stranger  ;  Catharine  sick  ;  George  almost  so  ;  Rachel's 
finger  cut  off,  and  she  crying  and  groaning  with  the  pain.  Mr. 
Beecher  is  gone  to  preach  in  New  Hartford,  and  did  not  provide 
us  wood  enough  to  last,  seeing  the  weather  has  grown  so  exceed- 
ingly cold.  ...  As  for  reading,  I  average  perhaps  one  page  a 
week  besides  what  I  do  on  Sundays.  I  expect  to  be  obliged  to 
be  contented  (if  I  can)  with  the  stock  of  knowledge  I  already 
possess,  except  what  I  can  glean  from  the  conversation  of  others. 
.  .  .  Mary  has.  I  suppose,  told  you  of  the  discovery  that  the  fixed 
alkalies  are  metallic  oxides.  I  first  saw  the  notice  in  the  Chris- 
tian Observer.  I  have  since  seen  it  in  an  Edinburgh  Review. 
The  former  mentioned  that  the  metals  have  been  obtained  by 
means  of  the  galvanic  battery  ;  the  latter  mentions  another  and, 
they  say,  a  better  mode.  I  think  this  is  all  the  knowledge  I  have 
obtained  in  the  whole  circle  of  arts  and  sciences  of  late  ;  if  you 
have  been  more  fortunate,  pray  let  me  reap  the  benefit." 

Looking  at  both  its  sunshine  and  its  shadows,  this  Litchfield 
parsonage  offers  an  illustration  of  an  ideal  New  England  home. 
The  household  was  large,  large  enough  to  contain  in  itself  a  great 
variety  of  resources,  and  able  in  that  roomy  house  to  offer  a 
broad  hospitality  to  all  comers.     Democratic  in  the  best  sense 


REV.  I/E.YKY  WARD  BEECHER 


4' 


of  the  word,  servants  being  considered  and  treated  ititu- 

ent  members  ;  wide  awake,  reading  all  the  new  books,  dis- 
cing all  the  vital  questions  of  the  day,  arguing  all  the  knotty 
points  of  theology;  industrious  and  frugal;  allied  to  the  best  life 
of  the  place  and  the  times,  with  a  broad  outlook  that  took  with- 
in its  horizon  all  the  interests  of  country  and  humanity,  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  at  home  and  abroad,  social,  political,  and  spiri- 
tual, it  was  good  soil,  and  a  good  exposure  for  planting  a  tree 
whose  branches  should  spread  abroad  throughout  the  land  and 
the  whole  earth. 

Into  this  family  was  born  a  son,  June  24,  1813 — "the  fourth, 
fifth,  sixth,  or  seventh  child,  somewhere  thereabouts,"  as  he  him- 
self says  in  a  speech  before  the  London  Congregational  Board, 
with  that  forgetfulness  of  numbers  which  was  always  character- 
istic of  him.  In  fact,  the  ninth  child,  the  eighth  living  at  the 
time.  It  was  in  one  of  his  favorite  months,  that  of  June,  "  which 
bursts  out  from  the  gates  of  heaven  with  all  that  is  youngest,  and 
clothed  with  that  which  is  the  most  tender  and  beautiful,"  that 
he  began  his  career. 

The  grandmother,  Roxana  Foote,  being  with  her  daughter 
at  the  time,  and  remembering  her  own  two  favorite  sons,  who 
died  in  youth,  named  the  new-born  infant  after  his  uncles,  Henry 
and  Ward. 

They  were  stirring  times,  those  of  the  early  summer  of  1813. 
The  second  war  of  our  national  independence  was  then  in 
progress,  and  tidings  -had  just  reached  the  village  that  Fort 
Brown  had  been  captured  by  the  United  States  forces.  Lyman 
Beecher  says  of  those  times  : 

'"Our  dangers  in  the  war  of  1812  were  very  great,  so  great 
that  human  skill  and  power  were  felt  to  be  in  vain.  Thick 
clouds  begirt  the  horizon,  the  storm  roared  louder  and  loud- 
er ;  it  was  dark  as  midnight,  every  pilot  trembled,  and  from  most 
all  hope  that  we  should  be  saved  was  taken  away  ;  and  when 
from  impenetrable  darkness  the  sun  burst  suddenly  upon  us 
and  peace  came,  we  said  :  '  Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  from 
the  snare  of  the  fowler.  The  snare  is  broken  and  we  are 
escaped.'  " 

Across  the  water  Napoleon  was  rallying  from  the  disaster  of 
his  Russian  campaign,  and  making  the  Continent  again  re- 
sound with  the  roar  of  his  cannon.     Not  only  did  these  events 


42 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER. 


stir  mind  and  heart  of  all  alike,  but  the  increased  taxation  and 
the  high  prices  that  resulted  from  a  world  at  war  were  severely  felt 
in  the  parsonage.  Mrs.  Lyman  Beecher  wrote  :  "  We  feel  the 
war  somewhat  more  than  we  should  one  between  the  Turks  and 
Crim  Tartars,  inasmuch  as,  for  the  most  part,  every  article  is 
double  or  treble  the  former  price,  and  some  things  even  more 
than  that." 

These  were  also  the  days  of  the  inauguration  of  some  of 
those  great  moral  movements  that  are  even  now  in  progress  in 
this  State  and  in  the  land.  It  was  but  the  year  before  that  the 
General  Association  of  Connecticut,  under  the  leadership  of 
Lyman  Beecher,  had  taken  decided  action  upon  the  temperance 
question.     In  speaking  of  it  he  says  : 

"  I  was  not  headstrong  then,  but  I  was  heart-strong — oh  ! 
very,  very  !  From  that  time  on  the  movement  went  on,  not  only 
in  Connecticut  but  marching  through  New  England  and  march- 
ing through  the  world.  Glory  to  God  !  Oh  !  how  it  wakes  my 
old  heart  up  to  think  of  it  !  " 

Morals  in  general  at  this  .time  were  at  a  low  ebb,  and  he 
secured  the  organization  of  a  "  General  Society  for  the  Suppres- 
sion of  Vice  and  the  Promotion  of  Good  Morals  in  the  State." 

His  sermon  upon  the  "  Building  of  Waste  Places  "  resulted  in 
the  institution  of  a  "  Domestic  Missionary  Society  "  for  the  work 
of  home  evangelization  in  Connecticut,  and  he  had  already 
secured  a  Foreign  Missionary  Society  for  Litchfield,  which  was 
one  of  the  most  efficient  auxiliaries  of  the  American  Board,  then 
but  recently  established.  The  conflict  concerning  the  Standing 
Order  which  in  1818  resulted  in  the  withdrawal  of  State  aid 
from  the  Congregational  churches,  and  which  Dr.  Beecher 
feared  as  likely  to  open  the  flood-gates  of  ruin  upon  the  State, 
and  by  reason  of  which  he  says,  "  I  suffered  what  no  tongue 
can  tell,  for  the  best  thing  that  ever  happened  to  the  State  of 
Connecticut,"  was  just  beginning. 

In  all  the  movements  of  this  progressive  period  stands  this 
village  parsonage,  like  an  outpost  of  an  advancing  army,  held 
almost  within  the  enemy's  lines. 

Added  to  these  public  labors  and  troubles  a  very  heavy 
family  sorrow  was  laid  upon  them  during  this  year.  The  mother, 
for  months  before  the  birth  of  her  ninth  child,  saw  her  favorite 
sister,  Mary  Hubbard,  slowly  wasting  away  with  consumption, 


44 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER. 


and  had  need  to  call  up  all  her  resources  of  faith  and  resignation 
to  meet  this  complication  of  trials  that  was  upon  them. 

So  this  child  was  nourished,  even  before  birth,  in  the  sweet 
spirit  of  a  most  godly  soul,  deepened  and  chastened  by  both 
private  griefs  and  public  sorrows,  and  was  ushered  into  the  world 
at  an  era  of  most  important  events,  into  the  very  midst  of  multi- 
plied labors  and  stirring,  progressive  movements.  All  these 
formed,  as  it  were,  an  atmosphere  of  influence  as  imperceptible 
to  the  eye  as  common  air,  but  as  powerful  in  moulding  character 
in  its  formative  periods  as  are  the  natural  forces  in  shaping  the 
mountains  or  growing  the  forests.  By  virtue  of  that  law  by 
which  the  offspring  are  affected  by  those  things  which  most 
interest  the  parents,  we  may  safely  say  that  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
was  in  part  a  product  of  the  times  that  preceded,  attended,  and 
followed  his  birth,  and  was  stamped  by  their  strong  and  peculiar 
characteristics.  He  carried  war  in  him  as  a  birth-mark,  but  with 
him  it  was  war  against  wickedness  and  wrong. 

The  springs  of  consolation,  which  flowed  from  him  in  after- 
years  for  the  relief  of  troubled  souls  the  world  over,  were  such 
as  his  mother  resorted  to  in  days  of  trial,  and  were  opened  to 
him  in  her  bosom  ;  and  he  was  continually  pressing  forward 
through  life  to  some  new  measure  of  reform,  to  some  new  step  of 
attainment,  by  virtue  of  that  reforming,  progressive  age  that  so 
early  became  a  very  part  of  his  nature. 


•     ■ . 


m  ^ 


45 


CHAPTER  III. 


CHILDHOOD. 


Early  Glimpses — Recollections  of  the  Mother — Going  to  School  at  Ma'am 
Kilbourne's — His  First  Letter— District  School — The  Coming  of  the 
New  Mother — His  First  Ride  on  Horseback — A  Merry  Household — 
Fishing  Excursions — Minister's  Wood-Spell — Saturday  Night — Going 
to  Meeting— The  Puritan  Sabbath— The  Cold  of  Litchfield  Hill— Rats- 
Work — The  Catechism — Formative  Influences — Summing  Up. 

WE  of  course  see  but  little  of  him  in  these  early  years. 
"  The  younger  members  of  the  Beecher  family  came  into 
existence  in  a  great,  bustling  household  of  older  people,  all 
going  their  several  ways  and  having  their  own  grown-up  interests 
to  carry. 

"The  child  growing  up  in  this  busy,  active  circle  had  con- 
stantly impressed  upon  it  a  sense  of  personal  insignificance  as  a 
child,  and  the  absolute  need  of  the  virtue  of  passive  obedience 
and  non-resistance  as  regards  all  grown-up  people.  To  be  stat- 
edly washed  and  dressed  and  catechised,  got  to  school  at  regular 
hours  in  the  morning  and  to  bed  inflexibly  at  the  earliest  possible 
hour  at  night,  comprised  about  all  the  attention  that  children 
could  receive  in  those  days." 

Here  and  there  a  glimpse  is  given,  just  enough  to  tell  us  the 
direction  the  stream  is  taking.  The  first  is  found  in  a  letter  of 
the  mother  to  her  sister,  Harriet  Foote,  written  when  he  was  a 
little  more  than  a  year  old  : 

"July  12,  1814. —  .  .  .  I  arrived  Saturday  at  sunset,  and 
found  all  well,  and  boy  (Henry  Ward)  in  merry  trim,  glad  at 
heart  to  be  safe  on  terra  firma  after  all  his  jolts  and  tossings." 

Again  in  November  of  the  same  year  : 

"  I  write  sitting  upon  my  feet  with  my  paper  on  the  seat  of  a 
chair,  while  Henry  is  hanging  round  my  neck  and  climbing  on 
my  back." 

He  himself  gives  an  experience  of  a  little  later  period  : 

"  I  remember  very  well  when  I  was  but  two  years  old 
(strange  as  it  may  seem  ;  sometimes  I  think  I  spent  all  my  re- 
membering power   on  that  early  period  !)  finding  myself  in  the 

46 


RE  l  \  HENR  V  ll  A  RD  BEECHER.  4  7 

east  entry  of  my  father's  great  house,  alone,  coming  down-stairs, 
or  trying  to.  The  sudden  sense  which  I  had  of  being  alone 
frightened  me,  and  I  gave  one  shriek  ;  and  then  the  echo  of  my 
voice  scared  me  worse,  and  I  gave  another  shriek  that  was  more 
emphatic  ;  and  1  remember  seeing  the  light  stream  in  from  the 
dining-room,  and  being  taken  up  by  loving  hands.  The  face  I 
do  not  recall,  the  form  I  do  not  recall  ;  but  I  remember  the 
warm  pressure.  It  was  my  mother,  who  died  when  I  was  three 
years  old.  She  took  me  to  her  bosom.  I  recollect  sitting  by  the 
side  of  some  one  who  made  me  feel  very  happy  ;  and  I  recol- 
lect seeing  my  father's  swart  face  on  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

"  Now  I  could  not  paint  my  mother's  face  ;  but  I  know  how 
her  bosom  felt.  I  know  how  her  arms  felt.  I  have  a  filial  sense, 
a  child's  interpretation,  of  motherhood.  It  was  only  an  emotion 
or  instinct  in  me,  but  it  was  blessed." 

This  incident  of  the  mother  is  supplemented  by  two  of  the 
sister  Harriet,  in  which  the  little  boy  Henry  had  a  part  : 

"  In  my  own  early  childhood,"  she  says,  "  only  two  incidents 
of  my  mother  twinkle  like  rays  through  the  darkness.  One  was 
of  our  all  running  and  dancing  out  before  her  from  the  nursery 
to  the  sitting-room  one  Sabbath  morning,  and  her  pleasant  voice 
saying  after  us,  '  Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy. '  " 

Another  remembrance  is  this  :  "  Mother  was  an  enthusiastic 
horticulturist  in  all  the  small  ways  that  limited  means  allowed. 
Her  brother  John,  in  New  York,  had  just  sent  her  a  small  parcel 
of  tulip  bulbs.  I  remember  rummaging  these  out  of  an  obscure 
corner  of  the  nursery  one  day  when  she  was  out,  and  being 
strongly  seized  with  the  idea  that  they  were  good  to  eat,  and  us- 
ing all  the  little  English  I  possessed  to  persuade  my  brothers 
that  these  were  onions  such  as  grown  people  ate,  and  would  be 
very  nice  for  us.  So  we  fell  to  and  devoured  the  whole  ;  and  I 
recollect  being  somewhat  disappointed  in  the  odd,  sweetish  taste, 
and  thinking  that  onions  were  not  as  nice  as  I  had  supposed. 
Then  mother's  serene  face  appeared  at  the  nursery  door,  and 
we  all  ran  toward  her  and  with  one  voice  began  to  tell  our 
discovery  and  achievement.  We  had  found  this  bag  of  onions 
and  had  eaten  them  all  up.  Also  I  remember  that  there  was  not 
even  a  momentary  expression  of  impatience,  but  that  she  sat 
down  and  said  :  '  My  dear  children,  what  you  have  done  makes 
mamma  very  sorry.     Those  were   not  onion-roots,  but  roots  of 


48  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

beautiful  flowers  ;  and  if  you  had  let  them  alone  ma  would  have 
had  next  summer  in  the  garden  great,  beautiful  red  and  yellow 
flowers  such  as  you  never  saw.'  I  remember  how  drooping 
and  dispirited  we  all  grew  at  this  picture,  and  how  sadly  we  re- 
garded the  empty  bag." 

When  the  mother  grew  sick  and  the  children  were  admit- 
ted to  her  bedside  once  a  day,  Henry  was  among  the  number, 
although  no  memory  of  the  fact  lingered  with  him  in  after-years. 

Mrs.  Stowe  writes  of  this  event  : 

"  I  have  a  vision  of  a  very  fair  face  with  a  bright  red  spot 
on  each  cheek,  and  a  quiet  smile  as  she  offered  me  a  spoon- 
ful of  her  gruel  ;  of  our  dreaming  one  night,  we  little  ones,  that 
mamma  had  got  well,  and  waking  in  loud  transports  of  joy,  and 
being  hushed  down  by  some  one  coming  into  the  room.  Our 
dream  was  indeed  a  true  one.  She  was  for  ever  well ;  but  they 
told  us  she  was  dead,  and  took  us  in  to  see  what  seemed  so  cold 
and  so  unlike  anything  we  had  ever  seen  or  known  of  her." 

Mrs.  Reeve,  one  of  the  most  intimate  friends  of  the  family, 
writes  of  the  last  day  of  her  life  : 

"  She  told  her  husband  that  her  views  and  anticipations  of 
heaven  had  been  so  great  that  she  could  hardly  sustain  it,  and  if 
they  had  been  increased  she  should  have  been  overwhelmed,  and 
that  her  Saviour  had  constantly  blessed  her  ;  that  she  had  peace 
without  one  cloud,  and  that  she  had  never  during  her  sickness 
prayed  for  her  life.  She  dedicated  her  sons  to  God  for  mission- 
aries, and  said  that  her  greatest  desire  was  that  her  children 
might  be  trained  up  for  God,  and  she  trusted  God  would,  in  his 
own  time,  provide  another  companion  for  him  that  would  more 
than  fill  her  place. 

"  She  spoke  of  the  advancement  of  Christ's  kingdom  with 
joy,  and  of  the  glorious  day  that  was  ushering  in. 

"  She  attempted  to  speak  to  her  children,  but  she  was  ex- 
tremely exhausted,  and  their  cries  and  sobs  were  such  that  she 
could  say  but  little.  She  told  them  that  God  could  do  more 
for  them  than  she  had  done  or  could  do,  and  that  they  must  trust 
him. 

"  Mr.  Beecher  then  made  a  prayer,  in  which  he  gave  her  back 
to  God  and  dedicated  all  that  they  held  in  common  to  him. 
She  then  fell  into  a  sweet  sleep  from  which  she  awoke  in  heaven. 
It  is  a  most  moving  scene    to  see  eight  little  children  weeping 


I  .  ili:.\  RY  li  AFD  Bl  i  i  VEX.  \<) 

around  the  bed  o(  a  dying  mother  ;  but  still  it  was  very  cheering 
to  see  how  God  could  take  away  the  Sting  of  death  and  give 
such  a  victory  over  the  grave." 

Mr.   Beecher's  remembrance  of  this  event  was  simply  of  a 

feeling  of  fear  and  pain  at  the  weeping  of  the  children  around 
him,  and  of  interest  in  the  baby,  Charles,  in  his  little  white  dress, 
as  he  was  lifted  up  in  the  arms  of  one  of  the  attendants. 

Of  the  funeral  we  read  from  Mrs.  Stowe's  pen  : 

"  Henry  was  too  little  to  go  ;  I  remember  his  golden  curls 
and  little  black  frock,  as  he  frolicked  like  a  kitten  in  the  sun  in 
ignorant  joy. 

"  I  remember  the  mourning  dresses,  the  tears  of  the  older 
children,  the  walking  to  the  burial-ground  and  somebody's  speak- 
ing at  the  grave,  and  the  audible  sobbing  of  the  family  ;  and 
then  all  was  closed,  and  we  little  ones,  to  whom  it  was  so  con- 
fused, asked  the  question  where  she  was  gone  and  would  she 
never  come  back  ?  They  told  us  at  one  time  that  she  had  been 
laid  in  the  ground,  at  another  that  she  had  gone  to  heaven. 
Whereupon  Henry,  putting  the  two  things  together,  resolved  to 
dig  through  the  ground  and  go  to  find  her  ;  for  being  discovered 
under  sister  Catherine's  window  one  morning  digging  with  great 
zeal  and  earnestness,  she  called  to  him  to  know  what  he  was  do- 
ing, and,  lifting  his  curly  head,  with  great  simplicity  he  answered  : 
1  Why,  I  am  going  to  heaven  to  find  ma  !  '  " 

We  next  hear  of  him  in  a  letter  written  by  his  sister,  February 
i,  1817  : 

"...  Henry  is  a  very  good  boy,  and  we  think  him  a  re- 
markably interesting  child,  and  he  grows  dearer  to  us  every  day. 
He  is  very  affectionate,  and  seems  to  love  his  father  with  all  his 
heart.  His  constant  prattle  is  a  great  amusement  to  us  all. 
He  often  speaks  of  his  sister  Harriet,  and  wishes  spring  would 
come,  so  that  she  might  come  home  and  go  to  school  with  him." 

This  was  in  the  winter  when  he  was  past  three  years  old. 

Perhaps  the  prattle  of  this  one  will  be  instructive  as  well  as 
amusing  some  day.     Who  knows  ? 

At  last  spring  comes,  and  with  it  his  sister  Harriet  from  her 
long  visit  at  Nutplains,  and  an  important  era  in  his  life  opens. 
He  begins  to  go  to  school,  with  her  as  his  companion  and  guar- 
dian. 

He  is  just  four  years  old  that  summer,  the  usual  age  for  school 


50  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

beginnings  in  rural  New  England.  They  went  to  Ma'am  Kil- 
bourne's  on  West  Street,  and  there  he  clambered  up  the  first 
rounds  of  the  ladder  of  book-learning  and  took  his  first  lessons. 
These  consisted  in  repeating  his  letters  twice  a  day,  such  as  he 
could  remember,  and  having  the  others  pointed  out  to  him 
from  Webster's  spelling-book,  as  he  stood,  a  chubby,  bare-footed, 
round,  rosy-faced  boy,  in  front  of  the  dreaded  schoolma'am,  who 
had  been  made  sharp  and  angular  by  her  years  of  labor  in  sharp- 
ening the  intellectual  faculties  of  generations  of  children. 

In  due  time  Charles  is  large  enough  to  join  the  older  brother 
and  sister,  and  tells  us  : 

"  I  remember  all  three  of  us  coming  out  of  our  yard  and 
stringing  along,  holding  each  other  by  the  hand  and  saying  every 
morning,  '  What  if  a  great  big  dog  should  come  out  at  us  ? '  and 
Henry,  as  the  larger  brother  and  protector  of  the  group,  an- 
swering, '  I  would  take  an  axe  and  chop  his  head  off.'  " 

As  yet  he  wears  his  hair  in  long  golden  curls,  the  badge  of  a 
continued  infantile  state  ;  but  some  of  the  girls  at  school  impro- 
vising a  pair  of  shears  from  the  pieces  of  tin  thrown  out  from 
a  shop  near  by,  and  cutting  off  some  of  the  coveted  locks,  it  is 
thought  best  at  home  to  cut  them  all  off ;  and  now,  with  trousers, 
and  suspenders,  and  jacket,  and  short  hair,  and  bare  feet,  he 
emerges  from  the  half-infantile,  girlish  state  and  becomes  a  full- 
fledged  boy,  much  to  his  own  satisfaction  :  "  he  considered  that 
his  manhood  had  now  commenced." 

That  the  instruction  of  his  teacher  is  not  all  thrown  away  is 
evident  by  the  letter  which  he  wrote  at  this  time,  when  he  was 
five  years  old,  of  which  a  facsimile  is  given.  Its  merits  of  di- 
rectness and  originality,  at  least  in  the  matter  of  spelling,  will  be 
readily  recognized  : 


J)3K,    £YsTJ5R 


E 

ThE  0l^>  sow  H*^   fix  ?/>s  f 


REV.  Hi  VRY  WARD  BEECH ER.  51 

One  incident  oi  about  these  times,  which  Is  related  by  Ins 
brother,  is  Ludicrously  prophetic  : 

"1  remember  Henry's  coming  in  and  taking  his  turn"  (read- 
ing to  Aunt  Esther).  "Once  the  piece  was  about  wild  beasts,  and 
it  said  'two  monstrous  lions  came  out.'  1  can  see  Henry's  red 
ami  declamatory  air  as  he  read  it  '  two  monstrofalous  great 
lions  came  out.' " 

From  Widow  Kilbourne's  he  graduated  into  the  district 
school,  which  was  a  few  rods  north  of  the  parsonage,  and  was  at- 
tended by  all  the  children  of  quite  a  large  farming  district.  Like 
the  other  children,  he  carried  sewing  and  knitting,  and  the  sister 
tells  us  that  "  this  bashful,  dazed-looking  boy  pattered  bare-foot 
to  and  from  the  little  unpainted  school-house,  with  a  brown  towel 
or  a  blue  checked  apron  to  hem  during  the  intervals  between  his 
spelling  and  reading  lessons." 

His  eagerness  for  sister  Harriet  to  return,  that  he  may  begin 
school,  has  long  since  subsided,  and  given  place  to  an  unusual 
dislike  for  his  whole  district-school  experience,  as  appears  from 
reminiscences  which  he  wrote  in  after-years  : 

"  It  was  our  misfortune,  in  boyhood,  to  go  to  a  district  school. 
It  was  a  little,  square  pine  building,  blazing  in  the  sun,  upon 
the  highway,  without  a  tree  for  shade  or  sight  near  it  ;  without 
bush,  yard,  fence,  or  circumstance  to  take  off  its  bare,  cold,  hard, 
hateful  look.  Before  the  door,  in  winter,  was  the  pile  of  wood 
for  fuel,  and  in  summer  there  were  all  the  chips  of  the  win- 
ter's wood.  In  winter  we  were  squeezed  into  the  recess  of  the 
farthest  corner,  among  little  boys,  who  seemed  to  be  sent  to 
school  merely  to  fill  up  the  chinks  between  the  bigger  boys. 
Certainly  we  were  never  sent  for  any  such  absurd  purpose  as  an 
education.  There  were  the  great  scholars — the  school  in  winter 
was  for  them,  not  for  us  pickaninnies.  We  were  read  and  spelt 
twice  a  day,  unless  something  happened  to  prevent,  which  did 
happen  about  every  other  day.  For  the  rest  of  the  time  we  were 
busy  in  keeping  still.  And  a  time  we  always  had  of  it  !  Our 
shoes  always  would  be  scraping  on  the  floor  or  knocking  the 
shins  of  urchins  who  were  also  being  'educated.'  All  of  our  lit- 
tle legs  together  (poor,  tired,  nervous,  restless  legs  with  nothing 
to  do  ! )  would  fill  up  the  corner  with  such  a  noise  that,  every  ten 
or  fifteen  minutes,  the  master  would  bring  down  his  two-foot 
hickory  ferule  on  the  desk  with  a  clap  that  sent  shivers   through, 


52  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

our  hearts  to  think  how  that  would  have  felt  if  it  had  fallen  some- 
where else  ;  and  then,  with  a  look  that  swept  us  all  into  utter 
extremity  of  stillness,  he  would  cry,  '  Silence  in  that  corner  ! ' 
It  would  last  for  a  few  minutes  ;  but  little  boys'  memories  are 
not  capacious.  Moreover,  some  of  the  boys  had  mischief,  and 
some  had  mirthfulness,  and  some  had  both  together.  The  con- 
sequence was  that  just  when  we  were  the  most  afraid  to  laugh 
we  saw  the  most  comical  things.  Temptations  which  we  could 
have  vanquished  with  a  smile  out  in  the  free  air  were  irresistible 
in  our  little  corner,  where  a  laugh  and  a  spank  were  very  apt  to 
woo  each  other.  So  we  would  hold  on  and  fill  up  ;  and  others 
would  hold  on  and  fill  up  too  ;  till  by  and  by  the  weakest  would 
let  go  a  mere  whiffet  of  a  laugh,  and  then  down  went  all  the  pre- 
cautions, and  one  went  off,  and  another,  and  another,  touching 
the  others  off  like  a  pack  of  fire-crackers  !  It  was  in  vain  to 
deny  it.  But  as  the  process  of  snapping  our  heads  and  pulling 
our  ears  went  on  with  primitive  sobriety,  we  each  in  turn,  with 
tearful  eyes  and  blubbering  lips,  declared  'we  didn't  mean  to,' 
and  that  was  true  ;  and  that  'we  wouldn't  do  so  any  more,'  and 
thaj  was  a  lie,  however  unintentional,  for  we  never  failed  to  do 
just  so  again,  and  that  about  once  an  hour  all  day  long. 

"  Besides  this  our  principal  business  was  to  shake  and  shiver 
at  the  beginning  of  the  school  for  very  cold  ;  and  to  sweat  and 
stew  for  the  rest  of  the  time  before  the  fervid  glances  of  a  great 
box  iron  stove,  red-hot.  There  was  one  great  event  of  horror 
and  two  of  pleasure  :  the  first  was  the  act  of  going  to  school,  com- 
prehending the  leaving  off  play,  the  face-washing  and  clothes-in- 
specting, the  temporary  play-spell  before  the  master  came,  the 
outcry,  '  There  he  is  !  the  master  is  coming!'  the  hurly-burly  rush. 
and  the  noisy  clattering  to  our  seats.  The  other  two  events  of 
pleasure  were  the  play-spell  and  the  dismissal.  O  dear  !  can 
there  be  anything  worse  for  a  lively,  mercurial,  mirthful,  active 
little  boy  than  going  to  a  winter  district  school  ?  Yes — going 
to  a  summer  district  school  !  There  is  no  comparison.  The  one 
is  the  Miltonic  depth,  below  the  deepest  depth. 

"A  woman  kept  the  school,  sharp,  precise,  unsympathetic, 
keen,  and  untiring.  Of  all  ingenious  ways  of  fretting  little  boys 
doubtless  her  ways  were  the  most  expert.  Not  a  tree  to  shelter 
the  house  ;  the  sun  beat  down  on  the  shingles  and  clapboards  till 
the  pine  knots  shed  pitchy  tears,  and   the  air  was  redolent  of  hot 


KJ-:r.  HENRY  WA&D  61  53 

pine-wood  smell.     The  benches  were  slabs  with  legs  in  them. 
The  desks  were  slabs  at  an  angle,  cut,  hacked,  scratched;  each 

's  edition  of  jack-knife  literature  overlaying  its  predei 
sor,  until  it  then  wore  cuttings  and  carvings  two  or  three  inches 
deep.  But  it"  we  cut  a  morsel,  or  stuck  in  pins,  or  pinched  off 
splinters,  the  little  sharp-eyed  mistress  was  on  hand,  and  one 
look  of  her  eve  was  worse  than  a  sliver  in  our  foot,  and  one 
nip  of  her  fingers  was  equal  to  a  jab  of  a  pin  ;  for  we  had  tried 
both. 

"  We  envied  the  flies — merry  fellows  !  bouncing  about,  tast- 
ing that  apple-skin,  patting  away  at  that  crumb  of  bread;  now 
out  the  window,  then  in  again  ;  on  your  nose,  on  your  neighbor's 
cheek,  off  to  the  very  schoolma'am's  lips  ;  dodging  her  slap,  and 
then  Letting  off  a  real  round  and  round  buzz,  up,  down,  this  way, 
that  way,  and  every  way.  Oh  !  we  envied  the  flies  more  than  any- 
thing, except  the  birds.  The  windows  were  so  high  that  we  could 
not  see  the  grassy  meadows  ;  but  we  could  see  the  tops  of  distant 
trees,  and  the  far,  deep,  bounteous  blue  sky.  There  flew  the 
robins  ;  there  went  the  blue-birds  :  and  there  went  we.  We  fol- 
lowed that  old  polyglot,  the  skunk-blackbird,  and  heard  him  de- 
scribe the  way  they  talked  at  the  winding  up  of  the  Tower  of 
Babel.  We  thanked  every  meadow-lark  that  sung  on,  rejoicing 
as  it  flew.  Now  and  then  a  '  chipping-bird  '  would  flutter  on 
the  very  window-sill,  turn  its  little  head  sidewise,  and  peer  in  on 
the  medley  of  boys  and  girls.  Long  before  we  knew  that  it  was 
in  Scripture  we  sighed  :  Oh  !  that  we  had  the  wings  of  a  bird  ; 
we  would  fly  away  and  be  out  of  this  hateful  school.  As  for 
learning,  the  sum  of  all  that  we  ever  got  at  a  district  school  would 
not  cover  the  first  ten  letters  of  the  alphabet.  One  good,  kind, 
story-telling,  Bible-rehearsing  aunt  at  home,  with  apples  and  gin- 
ger-bread premiums,  is  worth  all  the  schoolma'ams  that  ever 
stood  by  to  see  poor  little  fellows  roast  in  those  boy-traps  called 
district  schools. 

"  I  have  not  a  single  pleasant  recollection  in  connection  with 
my  school-boy  days.  The  woods  were  full  of  temptations,  the 
trees  called  me,  the  birds  wanted  me,  the  brooks  sung  entreaties. 
It  seemed  cruel  to  be  shut  up.  The  brooks,  birds,  flowers,  sun- 
shine, and  breezes  wrere  free  ;  why  not  I  ?  " 

In  the  autumn  of  181 7,  when  Henry  Ward  was  a  (c\v  months 
past  four  years  of  age,  Dr.  Lyman   Beecher  married  Miss  Harriet 


54  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

Porter,  of  Portland,  Maine,  and  brought  his  bride  at  once  to 
Litchfield. 

The  advent  of  the  new  mother  is.  thus  described  by  Mrs. 
Stowe : 

"  I  was  about  six  years  old  and  slept  in  the  nursery  with  my 
two  younger  brothers,  Henry  and  Charles.  We  heard  father  s 
voice  in  the  entry,  and  started  up  in  our  little  beds,  crying  out  as 
he  entered  our  room,  'Why,  here's  pa  !  '  A  cheerful  voice  called 
out  from  behind  him,  'And  here's  ma.' 

"  A  beautiful  lady,  very  fair,  with  bright  blue  eyes  and  soft 
auburn  hair  bound  round  with  a  black  velvet  bandeau,  came  into 
the  room  smiling,  eager  and  happy-looking,  and,  coming  up  to 
our  beds,  kissed  us  and  told  us  that  she  loved  little  children  and 
that  she  would  be  our  mother.  Never  did  stepmother  make  a 
prettier  or  sweeter  impression.  The  next  morning  I  remember 
we  looked  at  her  with  awe.  She  seemed  to  us  so  fair,  so  delicate, 
so  elegant  that  we  were  almost  afraid  to  go  near  her.  We  must 
have  been  rough,  red-cheeked,  hearty  country  children,  honest, 
obedient,  and  bashful.  She  was  peculiarly  dainty  and  neat  in 
all  her  ways  and  arrangements  ;  and  I  remember  I  used  to  feel 
breezy  and  rough  and  rude  in  her  presence.  We  felt  a  little  in 
awe  of  her,  as  if  she  were  a  strange  princess  rather  than  our  own 
mamma  ;  but  her  voice  was  very  sweet,  her  ways  of  moving  and 
speaking  very  graceful,  and  she  took  us  up  in  her  lap  and  let  us 
play  with  her  beautiful  hands,  which  seemed  wonderful  things 
made  of  pearl  and  ornamented  with  strange  rings." 

In  a  letter  written  to  her  sister  Mrs.  Beecher  gives  her  im- 
pressions of  the  group.  She  says:  "We  surprised  them  here 
almost  as  much  as  Mr.  Beecher  did  us.  They  did  not  expect  us 
till  the  following  evening,  but  it  was  a  joyful  surprise  to  them. 
I  never  saw  so  many  rosy  cheeks  and  laughing  eyes.  The  little 
ones  were  all  joy  and  gladness.  They  began  all,  the  first  thing, 
to  tell  their  dreams,  for  it  seems  they  have  dreamed  of  nothing 
else  but  father's  coming  home  ;  and  some  dreamed  he  came 
without  me,  and  some  that  he  brought  two  mothers.  They  all 
became  immediately  very  free  and  social,  except  the  youngest 
(Charles),  and  he  is  quite  shy;  calls  me  'lady,'  and  sometimes 
'dear  lady,'  but  he  loves  aunt  much  the  best.  I  have  never 
seen  a  finer  family  of  children,  or  a  more  agreeable.  I  am  de- 
lighted with   the   great  familiarity   and   great  respect   subsisting 


A  I-:  I '.  in-.  .\  k\    a  .1  /:/>  m  i-  (  in: A'.  5  5 

between  parent  and  children.  It  is  a  house  of  great  cheerfulness 
ami  comfort,  and  1  am  beginning  to  feel  at  home.  Harriet  and 
Henry  arc  very  desirous  for  me  to  send  their  love." 

Later  she  writes  of  them  : 

"1  perceive  them  to  be  of  agreeable  habits,  and  some  of  them 
of  uncommon  intellect.  .  .  .  Harriet  and  Henry  come  next, 
and  they  are  always  hand-in-hand.  They  are  as  lovely  children 
as  1  ever  saw,  amiable,  affectionate,  and  very  bright.  .  .  .  Our 
dwelling  is  pleasantly  situated.  The  garden  yields  plent)  of 
vegetables  for  the  year,  plenty  of  cherries,  and  the  orchard  fur- 
nishes cider  and  apples  enough.  A  barrel  of  apple-sauce  is  made 
in  the  fall,  which  the  children  use  instead  of  butter.  .  .  .  The 
boys  are  up  before  it  is  quite  day,  and  make  fires,  and  we  are 
all  down  and  have  prayers  before  sunrise.  Our  domestic  wor- 
ship is  very  delightful.  We  sing  a  good  deal  and  have  read- 
ing aloud  as  much  as  we  can." 

The  following  silhouette,  although  following  the  last  by  quite 
an  interval  of  time — it  is  in  1819 — is  our  next  family  picture  in 
order : 

"  Papa  is  well  and  is  still  writing  that  piece  with  a  hard  name, 
I  can't  remember  what.  Mamma  is  well,  and  don't  laugh  any 
more  than  she  used  to.  Catherine  goes  on  just  as  she  always  did, 
making  fun  for  everybody.  George  is  as  usual.  Harriet  makes 
just  as  many  wry  faces,  is  just  as  odd,  and  loves  to  be  laughed  at 
just  as  much  as  ever.  Henry  does  not  improve  much  in  talking, 
but  speaks  very  thick.  Charles  is  the  most  mischievous  little 
fellow  I  ever  knew.  He  seems  to  do  it  for  the  very  love  of  it  ;  is 
punished  and  punished  again,  but  it  has  no  effect.  He  is  the 
same  honest  little  boy,  and  I  love  him  dearly." 

It  must  have  been  about  this  time  that  Henry  had  the  expe- 
rience which  he  thus  describes  : 

"When  I  was  a  lad  I  was  ambitious  to  ride,  but  never  was 
permitted  to  ride  except  behind  an  elder  brother  ;  but  one  fair 
morning,  as  the  horse  was  brought  out  to  be  watered,  I  bestrode 
him  and  took  the  reins  in  my  hand.  He  made  for  the  brook 
with  considerable  celerity  ;  but  though  he  was  nimble  I  was 
willing,  and  I  succeeded  in  holding  on  and  getting  back  without 
any  accident.  So  elated  was  I  with  my  first  attempt  at  horse- 
back-riding that  I  felt  that  I  was  the  horseman  of  the  neigh- 
borhood.     The  next  morning    I    repeated   the  ride,  but  with  a 


56  Biography  of 

variation  ;  for,  being  unaccustomed  to  some  of  the  phases  of 
horseback-riding,  I  was  not  prepared  for  what  occurred.  The 
horse  did  not  perform  just  as  I  wanted  him  to,  so  I  laid  the  whip 
on  him,  and  he  darted  forward,  and  when  he  reached  the  edge 
of  the  brook  he  suddenly  stopped  and  I  went  on  ! " 

They  are  a  merry  lot  of  children,  getting  up  little  impromptu 
concerts,  charades,  and  games  of  all  kinds,  at  one  time  going  so 
far  as  to  dramatize  a  favorite  story.  They  "  curtain  off  the  end 
of  the  parlor,"  and  "  complete  the  entertainment  amid  thunders 
of  applause." 

Animal  life  is  regarded,  and  the  absent  members  of  the  family 
are  kept  duly  informed  of  the  well-being  of  their  favorites  : 

"  Old  Puss  is  very  well  and  sends  her  respects  to  you.  And 
Mr.  Black  Trip  has  come  out  of  the  barn  to  live,  and  says  if 
you  ever  come  into  the  kitchen  he  will  jump  up  and  lick  your 
hands  and  pull  your  frock,  just  as  he  serves  the  rest  of  us. 
Henry  and  Charles  love  to  play  with  him  very  much." 

Little  events  in  the  family  are  noted  and  immortalized  in 
verse,  of  which  the  following  letter  is  a  sample  : 

".  .  .  Apropos,  last  week  was  interred  Tom,  Junior,  with  fu- 
neral honors,  by  the  side  of  old  Tom  of  happy  memory.  What  a 
fatal  mortality  there  is  among  the  cats  of  the  parsonage  !  Our 
Harriet  is  chief  mourner  always  at  their  funerals.  She  asked 
for  what  she  called  an  epethet  for  the  grave-stone  of  Tom,  Junior, 
which  I  gave  as  follows  : 

"  *  Here  died  our  Kit, 
Who  had  a  fit 

And  acted  queer. 
Shot  with  a  gun, 
Her  race  is  run, 

And  she  lies  here.'  " 

When  Henry  was  eight  years  old  we  read  of  the  three  in  this 
wise  : 

"  Harriet  reads  everything  she  can  lay  her  hands  on,  and  sews 
and  knits  diligently.  Henry  and  Charles  go  to  school.  Henry  is 
as  sprightly  and  active,  and  Charles  as  honest  and  clumsy,  as  ever." 

Later  in  the  year  he  can  be  had  if  really  wanted  : 

"  We  have  four  boarders  besides  our  own  sick  folk,  so  that 
if  you  are  lonesome  for  want  of  children  we  could  easily  spare 
Henry  or  Harriet." 


kE  l '.  //A'.Wv'  Y  11 '.  /  Rt>  BEE  c  'Hi-,  a:  5  7 

Whether  the  hint  was  taken,  and  the  boy  who  was  sometimes 
too  "  sprightly  and  active"  and  this  girl  who  "  reads  everything 
she  can  lay  her  hands  on  "  were  wanted  and  sent,  is  not  told. 
The  next  year  perhaps  they  would  not  care  to  spare  him,     "  1 

had  the  alders  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  east  lot  cut  up,  broke- 
it  up,  ami  planted  to  corn  and  potatoes.  Henry  and  Charles 
began  to  help  hoe  a  little."  Any  one  who  has  had  experience  in 
such  matters  knows  that  hoeing  potatoes  in  a  newly-ploughed 
field  just  cleared  of  alders  is  no  fun.  At  this  time  Henry  was 
nine  years  old. 

It  has  been  said  by  one  whose  hatred  of  orthodox  religion  is 
only  equalled  by  the  beauty  of  the  language  with  which  he  is 
able  to  clothe  his  misconceptions,  that  "  Henry  Ward  Beech- 
er  was  born  in  a  Puritan  penitentiary,  of  which  his  father  was 
one  of  the  wardens  ;  a  prison  with  very  narrow  and  closely- 
grated  windows."  But  Mrs.  Stowe  wrote  years  ago  :  "  One  of 
my  most  vivid  impressions  of  the  family,  as  it  was  in  my  childish 
days,  was  of  a  great  household  inspired  by  a  spirit  of  cheerful- 
ness and  hilarity,  and  of  my  father,  although  pressed  and  driven 
with  business,  always  lending  an  attentive  ear  to  anything  in  the 
way  of  life  and  social  fellowship." 

The  brother  Charles,  who  was  an  almost  inseparable  compan- 
ion for  Henry  in  those  days,  says  in  a  letter  recently  received  : 
"  The  parental  authority  was  pronounced  but  not  very  strict. 
That  is,  there  was  never  any  thought  in  the  mind  of  the  children 
of  disobedience,  but  resort  to  corporal  punishment  was  rare. 

"  Nor  was  brother  Henry  made  to  work  very  hard,  nor  was 
father  very  strait-laced  or  stern.  Nor  were  we  often  switched, 
tho'  I  dare  say  we  deserved  it.  I  only  remember  once  distinct- 
ly, when  Henry  performed  the  gymnastics  and  I  furnished  the 
music  (out  in  the  barn).  Fortunately  for  me,  the  switch  was 
mostly  used  up  on  him  as  the  elder — a  birthright  I  did  not  envy 
— and  I  howled  in  sympathy,  with  a  few  cuts  for  Da  Capo. 

"The  fact  is,  father  was  very  fond  of  all  his  children  and 
frolicked  and  romped  with  them.  All  the  work  there  was  to  do 
(chores  we  called  it)  was  to  take  care  of  a  horse  and  cow,  and 
in  spring  make  garden,  and,  after  wood-spell,  carry  in  and  pile 
up  wood.  I  remember  that  we  were  told  if  we  made  the 
garden  so  and  so,  or  did  this  or  that,  we  should  go  fishing;  and 
we    used    to    go,    the    whole    family    of   us,    to    Little    Pond    or 


58  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Great  Pond,  and  catch  '  Perchy,  roachy,  bullhead,'  as  we  sang  it. 
One  afternoon  at  Little  Pond,  where  father  had  taken  Henry  and 
me  in  the  chaise  ('  one-hoss '),  we  were  catching  roach  when  the 
church-bell  rang,  and  father  remembered  that  it  was  Preparatory 
Lecture,  and  the  way  we  scurried  in  the  old  vehicle  may  be  im- 
agined." 

Mrs.  Stowe  writes  :  "  I  remember  when  the  wood  was  all  in 
and  piled  and  the  chips  swept  up,  then  father  tackled  the  horse 
into  the  cart  and  proclaimed  a  grand  fishing  party  down  to  Little 
Pond  ;  and  how  we  all  floated  among  the  lily-pads  in  our  boat, 
christened  '  The  Yellow  Perch,'  and  every  one  of  us  caught  a 
string  of  fish,  which  we  displayed  in  triumph  on  our  return," 

The  father  was  very  wise  in  directing  the  homely  labors  of 
the  household,  so  that  they  became  occasions  of  mental  stimu- 
lus. 

"  I  have  the  image  of  my  father  still,  as  he  sat  working  the 
apple-peeler.  '  Come,  George,'  he  said,  '  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do 
to  make  the  evening  go  off.  You  and  I'll  take  turns  and  see 
who'll  tell  the  most  out  of  Scott's  novels  '  (for  those  were  the 
days  when  the  '  Tales  of  my  Landlord  '  and  '  Ivanhoe  '  had  just 
appeared)  ;  and  so  they  took  them  novel  by  novel,  reciting  scenes 
and  incidents,  which  kept  the  eyes  of  all  the  children  wide  open 
and  made  the  work  go  on  without  flagging. 

"  Occasionally  he  would  raise  a  point  of  theology  on  some  in- 
cident narrated,  and  ask  the  opinion  of  one  of  his  boys  and  run  a 
sort  of  tilt  with  him,  taking  up  the  wrong  side  of  the  question 
for  the  sake  of  seeing  how  the  youngster  could  practise  his  logic. 
If  the  party  on  the  other  side  did  not  make  a  fair  hit  at  him, 
however,  he  would  stop  and  explain  to  him  what  he  ought  to 
have  said  :  '  The  argument  lies  so,  my  son  ;  do  that  and  you'll 
trip  me  up.'  Much  of  his  teaching  to  his  children  was  in  this  in- 
formal way." 

A  kindly  country  life  surrounded  the  minister's  family,  that 
could  not  fail  of  stamping  the  impress  of  its  plain  sincerity 
upon  all  who  were  brought  in  contact  with  it.  Once  a  year  this 
came  to  its  climax  in  the  winter's  wood-spell,  when  all  the  farm- 
ers upon  a  given  day  added  their  contribution  to  the  minister's 
wood-pile — a  festival  of  kindness  and  good  cheer. 

"  The  kind  farmers  wanted  to  see  all  the  children,  and  we 
were  busy  as  bee^  in  waiting  upon  them.     The  boys  heated  the 


REV.    ///VAT    11    /A'/'   /»'//<///  A'.  Jg 

flip-irons  and  passed  around  the  cider  and  flip,  while  Aunt  Esther 
and  the  daughters  were  as  busy  in  serving  the  doughnuts,  cake, 
and  cheese." 

Another  influence  we  must  not  forget,  and  that  was,  being  let 

alone.      "1  think,"  he  says,  "that  1  was  about  as  well  brought  up 

as  most  children,  because  I  was  let  alone.  My  father  was  so 
busy  and  my  mother  had  so  many  other  children  to  look  after 
that,  except  here  and  there,  I  hardly  came  under  the  parental 
hand  at  all.  1  was  brought  up  in  a  New  England  village,  and 
1  knew  where  the  sweet-flag  was,  where  the  hickory-trees  were, 
where  the  chestnut-trees  were,  where  the  sassafras-trees  were, 
where  the  squirrels  were,  where  all  things  were  that  boys  enter- 
prise after,  therefore  I  had  a  world  of  things  to  do,  and  so  I  did 
not  come  much  in  contact  with  family  government."  "  Nobody," 
so  says  his  sister,  "  thought  much  of  his  future,  further  than 
to  see  that  lie  was  safe  and  healthy,  or  even  troubled  them- 
selves to  inquire  what  might  be  going  on  in  his  life." 

Some  of  the  reminiscences  of  this  period  now  given  in  his  own 
words  are  interesting,  not  only  from  the  wide  field  which  they 
cover,  but  from  the  revelation  they  make  of  the  susceptibility  of 
his  nature  to  outside  influences.  Of  "  going  to  meeting"  he 
discourses  in  this  wise  : 

"The  coming  on  of  Saturday  night  was  always  a  serious  busi- 
ness with  the  youngsters.  We  had  no  stores  of  religious  ex- 
perience on  which  it  is  presumed  the  old  folks  meditated,  and 
the  prospect  of  a  whole  day  without  anything  in  it  to  interest  us 
was  not  a  little  gloomy.  On  no  night  of  the  week  did  the  frogs 
croak  so  dismally,  or  the  tree-toads  whistle  in  a  mood  so  melan- 
choly, as  on  Saturday  night. 

"  But  those  blazing  summer  mornings!  What  a  wrealth  of 
light  spread  over  that  blessed  old  hill-top  I  What  a  wondrous 
silence  dwelt  in  the  great  round  heavens  above  our  head  !  The 
birds  sang  on.  The  crows  in  the  distance  called  out  to  each 
other  in  hoarse  discourse.  The  trees  stood  in  calm  beauty — the 
great  elm-trees,  tall,  pliant,  graceful,  the  perfection  of  strength 
and  beauty.  All  this  we  saw  and  heard  while  buttoning  up  our 
Sunday  clothes  by  the  side  of  the  open  window.  For  the  cow 
and  horse  had  been  foddered,  and  the  pigs  fed,  and  all  the  barn 
chores  done  up,  and  a  bountiful  breakfast  eaten,  and  our  face  and 
hands  washed,  and  every  article  of  apparel,  from  shoe  to  hat,  had 


60  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

changed  from  a  secular  to  a  sacred  use.  Not  the  every-day  hat, 
soft,  shapeless,  universal  instrument,  used  as  a  liquid  or  solid 
measure  ;  used  now  for  the  head,  and  now  for  a  football  ;  used 
for  a  net  to  catch  butterflies  or  to  throw  at  wasps — no,  not  this 
bag,  pocket,  hat,  pouch,  and  magazine,  but  the  Sunday  hat, 
round,  stiff,  hard,  and  respectable. 

"  Although  the  new  hat  was  always  disagreeable  to  our  head, 
yet  we  had  a  wonderful  reverence  for  it,  and  spent  no  inconsider- 
able portion  of  our  time  in  church  in  getting  it  dirty  and  then 
brushing  it  clean. 

"  Our  jacket,  too,  was  new.  Only  a  handkerchief  was  then  in 
the  pocket  ;  no  knife,  no  marbles,  no  strings,  no  stones,  no  fish- 
hooks or  dried  angle-worms.  No  ;  a  boy's  Sunday  pocket  of  the 
olden  time  was  purged  of  all  temptation.  In  meeting-time  we 
often  put  our  little  hands  down  into  our  Sunday  pocket  with  a 
melancholy  wish,  '  Oh!  if  I  only  had  my  other  clothes  on  ! ' 

"  As  soon  as  we  were  dressed  and  mustered  in  the  sitting- 
room  an  inspection  was  had.  The  collar  was  pulled  up  a  little, 
the  hair  had  a  fresh  lick  from  the  brush,  the  mouth  must  be 
wiped  with  a  wet  towel,  the  shoestring  tied,  and,  after  being 
turned  round  and  round,  we  were  started  off. 

"  '  Now,  Henry,  be  a  good  boy.' 

"  'Yes,  ma'am.' 

" '  You  must  not  laugh,  or  tease  Harriet.' 

" '  No,  ma'am.' 

"  '  Don't  stop  on  the  road — go  right  in  when  you  get  to 
church.' 

'"Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Every  word  was  sincerely  promised,  and  efficaciously  broken 
within  ten  minutes. 

"  Oh!  how  high  the  trees  seemed  !  Oh!  how  bright  the  heav- 
ens were!  Oh!  how  hard  it  was  not  to  play  with  Chester  Coving- 
ton's dog,  that  came  running  to  us  with  bark  and  frolic,  and 
seemed  perplexed  at  our  sturdy  propriety. 

"  The  old  musical  bell  up  in  the  open  belfry  was  busy  a-toll- 
ing.  It  was  the  only  thing  that  was  allowed  to  work  on  Sunday 
— the  bell  and  the  minister.  That  bell-rope  was  always  an  object 
of  desire  and  curiosity  to  our  young  days.  It  ran  up  into  such 
dark  and  mysterious  spaces.  What  there  was  up  in  those  poker- 
ish  heights  in  the  belfry  tower  we  did  not  know,  but  something 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  6j 

that  made  our  flesh  creep.     Once  we  ventured  to  pull  that  rope. 
It  was  a  bold  and  venturesome  thing,  we  knew.     But  a 
was  on  us.     It   came  gently  and  easily  to  the  hand.     We  pulled 
again.     'Dong!  dong!'  went  the  hell.     The  old  sexton  put  his 

head  out  of  the  door  when,  on  that  particular  morning,  service 
had  begun,  and  said,  in  a  very  solemn  and  low  tone,  '  Boy  !  hoy  ! 
you  little  devil  you  !  '  and  much  more,  I  presume,  but  I  did 
not  wait  for  it,  but  cut  round  to  the  other  door  and  sat  all  church- 
time  trembling  and  wondering  whether  he  would  'tell  my  pa'; 
and  if  he  did,  what  Jic  would  say,  and  more  especially  what  he 
would  do.  I  called  up  the  probable  interview.  I  had  numerous 
precedents  on  which  to  found  a  possible  experience,  and  afflicted 
our  little  soul  all  meeting-time  with  needless  punishment  by  the 
imagination. 

ik  But  ordinarily  we  escaped  into  the  minister's  pew  without 
special  temptations.  Imagine  a  boy  of  eight  years  old,  round  as 
an  apple,  hearty  and  healthy,  an  hour  and  a  half  in  church  with 
nothing  to  do  !  We  looked  at  the  galleries  full  of  boys  and  girls, 
and  wished  we  might  go  into  the  galleries.  We  looked  at  the 
ceiling,  traced  all  the  cracks  back  and  forth.  We  looked  at  the 
dear  old  aunties  all  round  the  church,  fanning  themselves  with 
one  hand  and  eating  fennel-seed  or  a  bit  of  dried  orange-peel  out 
of  the  other.  We  gazed  out  of  the  window  high  above  our  heads 
into  the  clouds,  and  wished  we  could  only  climb  up  and  see  the 
trees  and  horses  and  dogs  that  abounded  around  the  church  on 
Sunday. 

"  Gradually  these  died  out  and  we  dropped  asleep.  Bless- 
ed liberty  !  the  child's  gospel  !  All  trouble  fled  away.  For  a 
half-hour  paradise  was  gained.  But  then  an  unusual  thump 
on  the  pulpit  Bible,  and  the  ring  and  roar  of  a  voice  un- 
der full  excitement,  that  went  on  swelling  like  a  trumpet,  and 
that  no  one,  not  the  most  listless,  could  hear  without  catching 
its  excitement,  waked  us,  blushing  and  confused  that  we  had 
been  asleep  in  church  !  Even  on  the  serene  and  marble  face  of 
mother  the  faint  suggestion  of  a  smile  came,  as  we  clutched  our 
hat,  supposing  meeting  to  be  over,  and  then  sheepishly  dropped 
it  and  sank  back  in  dismay.  But  even  Sunday  cannot  hold  out 
for  ever,  and  meetings  have  to  let  out  sometime  !  So,  at  length, 
a  universal  stir  and  bustle  announced  that  it  was  time  to  go.  Up 
we    bolted  !     Down   we  sat  as  quick  as  if  a  million   pins  were 


62  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

sticking  in  our  foot  !  The  right  leg  was  asleep  !  Limping  forth 
into  the  open  air,  relief  came  to  our  heart.  The  being  out  of 
doors  had  always  an  inexpressible  charm,  and  never  so  much 
as  on  Sunday.  Away  went  the  wagons.  Away  went  the  people. 
The  whole  Green  swarmed  with  folks.  The  long  village  streets 
were  full  of  company,  In  ten  minutes  all  were  gone,  and  the 
street  was  given  up   again  to  the  birds  ! 

"  Little  good  drd  preaching  do  me  until  after  I  was  fifteen 
years  old — little  good  immediately.  Yet  the  whole  Sunday,  the 
peculiar  influence  which  it  exerted  on  the  household,  the  general 
sense  of  awe  which  it  inspired,  the  very  rigor  of  its  difference 
from  other  days,  and  the  suspended  animation  of  its  sermon  time, 
served  to  produce  upon  the  young  mind  a  profound  impression. 
A  day  that  stood  out  from  all  others  in  a  hard  and  gaunt  way 
might,  perhaps,  be  justly  criticised.  But  it  left  its  mark.  It  did 
its  work  upon  the  imagination,  if  not  upon  the  reason.  It  had 
power  in  it  ;  and  in  estimating  moral  excellence  power  is  an  ele- 
ment of  the  utmost  importance.  Will  our  smooth,  cosey,  feeble 
modern  Sundays  have  such  a  grip  on  the  moral  nature  ?  They 
are  far  pleasanter.  Are  they  as  efficacious  ?  Will  they  educate 
the  moral  nature  as  much?" 

The  cold  of  Litchfield  Hill  and  the  exposure  of  his  old  home 
were  always  remembered. 

"  You  may  think  you  know  something  about  winter  ;  but  if  you 
never  spent  a  winter  on  old  Litchfield  Hill,  where  I  was  brought 
up,  you  do  not  know  much  about  it.  It  was  before  the  days 
of  stoves.  There  were  what  we  called  '  box-stoves,'  but  they 
were  a  very  small  power  for  generating  heat.  The  idea  of  a 
furnace  was  not  born.  It  was  not  even  within  the  reach  of  a 
prophet   to  predict  it. 

"My  father's  house  was  a  great  barn  of  a  structure,  with 
rooms  scattered  about  here  and  there.  Mine  was  the  west  and 
north  room — on  the  corner  ;  so  that  I  had  the  full  benefit,  with- 
out any  subtraction  or  discount,  of  everything  that  was  going 
on  out  of  doors  ;  for  double  windows  were  not  known,  and  the 
carpenters  did  not  care  about  making  a  tight  fit.  Therefore  the 
wind  found  no  trouble  in  coming  in,  and  on  many  and  many  a 
morning  the  snow  had  blown  from  the  window  to  my  bed  and 
across  the  foot  of  it  ;  and  if  anything  inspires  alacrity  of  step  on 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  63 

a  winter  morning  when  the  feet  are  bare,  it  is  a  drift  of  snow. 
Walking  011  it  is  like  walking  on  wasps. 

l'<>  go  back  to  the  frigid  houses  of  New  England  in  winter, 
without    furnaces   or   hard  coal,  or   air-tight    stoves   or   steam, 

would   make  our  dainty  skin  tingle.      What  a   pother  is  made  to 
rtain  the  exact   position  of  the  North  Pole,  the  very  centre 

and  navel  of  cold  !  Why,  I  could  have  pointed  to  the  exact  spot 
sixty  years  ago.  It  was  on  the  northwest  angle  of  my  father's 
house  in  Litchfield,  Connecticut,  in  the  room  where  I  slept." 

Not  only  did  the  severity  of  the  elements  affect  him,  but  their 
uproar  as  well,  especially  in  the  night-time. 

"The  war  of  winter  winds  to  our  young  ears  was  terrible  as 
the  thunder  of  waves  or  the  noise  of  battle.  All  night  long  the 
cold,  shelterless  trees  moaned.  Their  strong  crying  penetrated 
our  sleep  and  shaped  our  dreams.  At  every  waking  the  air  was 
full  of  mighty  winds.  The  house  creaked  and  strained,  and  at 
some  more  furious  gust  shuddered  and  trembled  all  over.  Then 
the  windows  rattled,  the  cracks  and  crevices  whistled  each  its 
own  distinctive  note,  and  the  chimneys,  like  diapasons  of  an 
organ,  had  their  deep  and  hollow  rumble." 

And  now  comes  an  influence  that  we  should  have  passed  by, 
if  he  himself  had  not  given  it  place  and  elaborate  notice  : 

"Next  to  the  "/inds  our  night  experiences  in  early  boyhood 
wrere  much  affected  by  rats.  The  old  house  seemed  to  have  been 
a  favorite  of  this  curious  vermin.  There  is  something  in  the 
short,  hot  glitter  of  a  rat's  eye  that  has  never  ceased  to  affect  us 
unpleasantly.  We  could  not  help  imagining  them  to  be  the  mere 
receptacles  of  mischievous  spirits,  and  their  keen  eyes  had  always 
a  kind  of  mocking  expression,  as  if  they  said,  '  You  think  we  are 
rats,  but  if  we  get  hold  of  you  you  will  know  that  we  are  a  good 
deal  more  than  that.'  We  never  could  estimate  how  many  popu- 
lated our  old  house.  The  walls  seemed  like  city  thoroughfares, 
and  the  ceiling  like  a  Forum  or  Roman  theatre.  We  used  to  lie 
in  bed  and  marvel  at  what  was  going  on.  Sometimes  there  would 
be  a  great  stillness,  as  if  they  had  all  gone  to  meeting.  Then 
again  they  would  troop  about  with  such  a  swell  of  liberty  and 
gladness  that  it  was  quite  plain  that  the  meeting  was  out.  But 
nothing  ever  scared  and  amused  us  so  much  as  their  way  of 
going  up  and  down  the  partitions.  At  first  up  would  come  one, 
then  another,  and  finally  quite  a  bevy,  squeaking  and  frolicking, 


64  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

as  if  they  were  school-boys  going  up- stairs,  nipping  each  other 
and  cutting  up  all  manner  of  pranks.  Then  came  a  stillness. 
Next  a  premonitory  rat  would  rush  down,  evidently  full  of  news, 
and  immediately  down  would  pour  after  him  a  stream  of  rats, 
rushing  like  mad,  and  apparently  tumbling  heels  over  head.  By 
and  by  some  old  sawyer  would  commence  where  he  left  off  the 
night  before,  cutting  the  same  partition.  To  this  must  be  added 
nibblings,  rat-nestled  paper,  an  occasional  race  of  rats  across  the 
bed,  the  manipulation  of  corn  in  the  garret,  the  foray  with  cats 
and  kittens,  the  rat  engines — 'steel  traps,'  'box-traps,'  'figure- 
four's,'  and  all  manner  of  devices,  in  spite  of  which  the  rats  held 
their  own,  and,  if  allowed  suffrage,  would  have  outvoted  the 
whole  family,  dog  and  cats  to  boot,  four  to  one." 

He  was  early  taught  to  work  and  endure  what  now  might  be 
called  hardships. 

"  It  was  my  duty,  after  I  got  to  be  about  eight  years  old,  to 
go  down-stairs  and  build  a  fire.  Ours  was  a  house  in  which, 
when  the  weather  was  cold,  if  water  was  left  in  any  vessel  it 
would  freeze  and  split  the  vessel  asunder ;  and  of  course  crock- 
ery had  no  chance.  Our  well  used  to  choke  up  with  ice  so  that 
we  had  to  cut  it  out  in  order  to  get  the  bucket  down  ;  and  some- 
times, when  the  cistern  was  frozen  up  so  that  we  could  not  get 
water  from  it,  I  have  gone,  on  washing-days,  two  miles,  and 
dipped  water  from  a  brook  into  barrels,  and  brought  it  home. 
Therefore  you  see  that,  however  dainty  I  may  be  nowadays,  I 
started  on  a  very  different  pattern." 

But  he  came  in  after-years  to  be  glad  of  this  experience: 

"  I  am  thankful  that  I  learned  to  hem  towels — as  I  did.  I 
know  how  to  knit  suspenders  and  mittens.  I  know  a  good  deal 
about  working  in  wood — sawing,  chopping,  splitting,  planing, 
and  things  of  that  sort.  I  was  brought  up  to  put  my  hand  to 
anything  ;  so  that  when  I  went  West,  and  was  travelling  on  the 
prairies  and  my  horse  lost  a  shoe,  and  I  came  to  a  cross-road 
where  there  was  an  abandoned  blacksmith's  shop,  I  could  go  in 
and  start  the  fire,  and  fix  the  old  shoe  and  put  it  on  again.  What 
man  has  done  man  can  do  ;  and  it  is  a  good  thing  to  bring  up 
boys  so  that  they  shall  think  they  can  do  anything.  I  could  do 
anything." 

The  greatest  trial  of  those  days  was  the  catechism.  Sunday 
lessons  were  considered  bv  the  mother  as  inflexible  dutv,  and  the 


REV.  ill-:. v R  V  WARD  BEECHER,  05 

catechism  was  the  sine  <///ci  non.  u  The  Other  children  memorized 
readily  and  were  brilliant  reciters,  but  Henry,  blushing,  Stammer- 
ing, confused,  and  hopelessly  miserable,  stuck  fast  on  some  sand- 
bank of  what  is  required  or  forbidden  by  this  or  that  command- 
ment, his  mouth  choking  up  with  the  long  words  which  he  hope- 
lessly miscalled,  was  sure  to  be  accused  of  idleness  or  inatten- 
tion, and  to  be  solemnly  talked  to,  which  made  him  look  more 
stolid  and  miserable  than  ever,  but  appeared  to  have  no  effect  in 
quickening  his  dormant  faculties." 

Such  were  the  influences  that  were  exerted  upon  Henry  Ward 
Beecher  during  these  early  and  formative  years.  Various  as  they 
were,  they  preserved  a  general  character  of  healthful  simplicity; 
and  numerous  as  they  appear,  they  can  yet  be  readily  generalized. 
The  first  were  those  that  were  addressed  to  conscience,  and  that 
went  to  make  this  the  strong,  influential  factor  which  it  became 
in  all  well-trained  New  England  youth  of  that  period,  and  in 
none  more  markedly  than  in  him.  The  stepmother  led  in  this 
work.  She  was  the  conscience  of  the  family,  training  to  the 
strict  observance  of  duty  with  a  thoroughness  which  the  father, 
with  his  more  impulsive  nature,  could  never  have  equalled,  al- 
though he  was  in  sympathy  with  the  process.  Home  duties  care- 
fully exacted,  regular  attendance  upon  school,  the  strict  keeping 
the  Sabbath,  even  the  hated  lesson  in  the  catechism,  were  some 
of  the  instruments  employed.  Open  to  criticism,  they  may  be,  in 
method  and  extent,  yet  they  did  their  work,  and  strong  con- 
scientiousness was  developed  that  made  him  tremble  at  the 
thought  of  wrong-doing,  and  kept  him  so  free  from  viciousness 
that  he  was  able  to  say  :  "  I  never  was  sullied  in  act,  nor  in 
thought,  nor  in  feeling  when  I  was  young.  I  grew  up  as  pure  as 
a  woman." 

And  although  in  after-years  he  gave  more  stress  to  heart 
than  conscience,  and  preached  the  Gospel  rather  than  the  law, 
it  was  but  the  carrying  out  the  natural  process  of  soil-making 
and  forest  culture:  the  granite  ridges  of  conscience  formed  the 
foundation,  clothed  and  hidden  by  the  growth,  but  not  destroyed. 

With  all  her  admirable  qualities  his  step-mother  failed  to 
satisfy  his  longing  for  affection. 

"  It  pleased  God  to  give  me  a  second  mother,  a  very  emi- 
nent Christian  woman.  Now,  my  nature,  was  enthusiastic  and 
outgushing  ;    I  was  like  the  convolvulus — I   wanted  to  be    run- 


66  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ning  on  somebody  all  the  time.  But  my  second  mother  was 
stately  and  not  easy  to  approach.  She  was  a  beautiful  per- 
son, serene  and  ladylike.  She  never  lacked  self-possession  in 
speech,  gesture,  or  posture.  She  was  polished  ;  but  to  my  young 
thoughts  she  was  cold.  As  I  look  back  I  do  not  recollect  ever 
to  have  had  from  her  one  breath  of  summer.  Although  I  was 
longing  to  love  somebody,  she  did  not  call  forth  my  affection  ; 
and  my  father  was  too  busy  to  be  loved.  Therefore  I  had  to 
expend  my  love  on  Aunt  Chandler,  a  kind  soul  that  was  con- 
nected with  our  family,  and  the  black  woman  that  cooked,  who 
were  very  kind  to  me.  My  mother  that  brought  me  up  I  never 
thought  of  loving.  It  never  occurred  to  me.  I  was  afraid  of 
her.  I  revered  her,  but  I  was  not  attracted  to  her.  I  felt  that 
she  was  ready  to  die,  and  that  I  was  not.  I  knew  that  at  about 
twilight  she  prayed  ;  and  I  had  a  great  shrinking  from  going  past 
her  door  at  that  time.  I  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  she  had 
set  her  affection  on  things  above,  and  not  on  things  beneath.  I 
had  the  strongest  conviction  of  her  saintliness.  It  stamped  itself 
upon  my  youth." 

Another  division  of  influences  comes  under  the  head  of  spir- 
itual : 

"  I  can  look  back  upon  my'  own  early  life,  and  see  how  one 
and  another  took  me,  and  how  one  prepared  me  for  another.  I 
can  see  how  the  largest  natures  did  not  always  get  access  to  me. 
It  was  late  in  life  before  my  father  influenced  me  very  much.  I 
think  it  was  a  humble  woman  who  was  in  our  family  that  first 
gained  any  considerable  control  over  me.  I  feel  the  effect  of  her 
influence  to  this  day. 

"  I  next  came  under  the  influence  of  a  very  humble  serving- 
man.  He  opened  up  new  directions  to  me  and  gave  me  new 
impulses.  He  was  a  colored  man  ;  and  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say 
that  my  whole  life,  my  whole  career  respecting  the  colored  race 
in  the  conflict  which  was  so  long  carried  on  in  this  country,  was 
largely  influenced  by  the  effect  produced  on  my  mind,  when  I 
was  between  eight  and  ten  years  of  age,  by  a  poor  old  colored 
man  who  worked  on  my  father's  farm,  named  Charles  Smith. 
He  did  not  set  out  to  influence  me  ;  he  did  not  know  that  he  did 
it  ;  I  did  not  know  it  until  a  great  while  afterwards  ;  but  he  gave 
me  impulses,  and  impulses  which  were  in  the  right  direction  ;  for 
he  was  a  godly  and  hymn-singing  man,  who  made  wine  fresh 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH  ER.  67 

every  night  from  the  cluster.  He  used  to  lie  upon  his  humble 
bed  (I  slept  in  the  same  room  with  him)  and  read  his  Testament, 
unconscious,  apparently,  that  I  was  in  the  room  ;  and  he  would 
laugh  and  talk  about  what  he  read,  and  chuckle  over  it  with  that 
peculiarly  unctuous  throat-tone  which  belongs  to  his  race.  I 
never  had  heard  the  Bible  really  read  before  ;  but  there,  in  my 
presence,  he  read  it,  and  talked  about  it  to  himself  and  to  God. 
He  turned  the  New  Testament  into  living  forms  right  before  me. 
It  was  a  revelation  and  an  impulse  to  me. 

u  He  talked  to  me  about  my  soul  more  than  any  member  of  my 
father's  family.  These  things  impressed  me  with  the  conviction 
that  he  was  a  Christian  ;  and  I  never  saw  anything  in  him  that 
led  me  to  think  otherwise.  The  feeling  that  I  was  sinful,  that  I 
needed  to  be  born  again,  that  there  was  such  a  thing  as  a  regene- 
rate life  produced  by  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  soul — these  feelings 
came  to  me  by  observing  the  actual  example  of  persons  that  I 
lived  with  more  than  from  all  other  sources  put  tog-ether." 

But  above  all  others  for  diffusive  and  permanent  impression 
affecting  his  whole  nature,  bringing  him  into  sympathy  with  God 
in  all  his  works  as  in  all  his  words,  and  increasing  to  the  day  of 
his  death,  was  the  influence  of  his  own  mother. 

"  The  memory  of  my  mother  as  one  sainted  has  exerted  a  sin- 
gular influence  on  me.  After  I  came  to  be  about  fourteen  or  fif- 
teen years  of  age  I  began  to  be  distinctly  conscious  that  there 
was  a  silent,  secret,  and,  if  you  please  to  call  it  so,  romantic  influ- 
ence which  was  affecting  me.  It  grew  and  it  grows,  so  that  in 
some  parts  of  my  nature  I  think  I  have  more  communion  with 
my  mother,  whom  I  never  saw  except  as  a  child  three  years  old, 
than  with  any  living  being.  I  am  conscious  that  all  my  life  long 
there  has  been  a  moral  power  in  my  memory  of  her.  It  is  evi- 
dent to  me  that  while  in  education  and  in  other  material  respects 
her  death  was  a  deprivation,  it  was  also  an  inspiration,  a  commu- 
nion— one  of  those  invisible  blessings  which  faith  comprehends, 
but  which  we  are  not  apt  to  weigh  and  to  estimate. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  says,  "  why  so  often  I  speak  what  must 
seem  to  some  of  you  rhapsody  of  woman  ?  It  is  because  I  had  a 
mother,  and  if  I  were  to  live  a  thousand  years  I  could  not  ex- 
press what  seems  to  me  to  be  the  least  that  I  owe  to  her.  Three 
years  old  was  I  when  singing  she  left  me  and  sung  on  to  heaven, 
where  she  sings  evermore.     I  have  only  such  a  remembrance  of 


68 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


her  as  you  have  of  the  clouds  of  ten  years  ago — faint,  evanescent; 
and  yet,  caught  by  imagination,  and  fed  by  that  which  I  have 
heard  of  her  and  by  what  my  father's  thought  and  feeling  of  her 
were,  it  has  come  to  be  so  much  to  me  that  no  devout  Catholic 
ever  saw  so  much  in  the  Virgin  Mary  as  I  have  seen  in  my  mo- 
ther, who  has  been  a  presence  to  me  ever  since  I  can  remember  ; 
and  I  can  never  say  enough  for  woman  for  my  sisters'  sake,  for 
the  sake  of  them  that  have  gathered  in  the  days  of  my  infancy 
around  about  me,  in  return  for  what  they  have  interpreted  to  me 
of  the  beauty  of  holiness,  of  the  fulness  of  love,  and  of  the  heav- 
enliness  of  those  elements  from  which  we  are  to  interpret  heaven 
itself." 

In  those  influences  that  went  to  move  the  intellect,  to  awaken 
interest  and  thought,  while  the  family  life  and  the  school  and 
nature  were  all  doing  something,  the  dear  old  Aunt  Esther  with 
her  Bible-readings  and  her  innumerable  stories  and  incidents 
of  animal  life  stood  pre-eminent  and  unapproachable  at  this 
period.  It  was  but  a  few  years  before  his  death  that  he  spoke 
of  her  early  influence  upon  him,  and  read  to  us  the  story  of  Jo- 
seph as  she  used  to  read  it  to  him,  with  the  tears  rolling  down  his 
cheeks.  He  told  us  that  he  had  never  yet  been  able  to  read  that 
story  or  hear  it  read  without  crying. 

But  in  those  practical  influences  that  had  to  do  with  life,  that 
gave  him  the  impression  that  things  could  be  done  and  must  be 
done,  that  gave  him  inspiration  to  labor,  his  father  took  the  lead. 

"  What  I  was  going  to  speak  of  was  the  effect  upon  my  young 
mind  of  observing  my  father's  conduct  under  trying  circum- 
stances. I  never  once  saw  him  flinch  before  the  cold,  or  look  as 
though  anything  was  hard,  or  as  if  there  was  a  reason  for  not 
pitching  in  and  holding  on  when  things  were  difficult.  I  have 
seen  the  time  when  we  had  to  cut  a  twenty-five-foot  tunnel  out- 
ward from  the  kitchen-door,  carrying  the  snow  through  the  house; 
and  such  tunnels  would  sometimes  remain  a  month  before  they 
would  break  down.  I  have  seen  the  children  around  the  house 
crying  with  cold,  and  slapping  their  hands,  and  stamping  their 
feet,  when  father  had  to  go  and  dig  wood  out  of  the  snow-bank, 
and  cut  and  split  it ;  and  his  alacrity  and  vigor  infused  themselves 
into  the  children.  I  recollect  particularly  that  if,  on  such  nights 
as  this,  when  to  the  high  wind  severe  cold  and  thick  darkness 
were  added,  my  father  had  appointments,  he  always  fulfilled  them. 


REV*  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER.  69 

It  was  customary  to  have  preaching-places  all  around  the  neigh- 
borhood, here,  there,  and  everywhere  ;  and  I  never  knew  him  to 
think  of  shrinking  from  an  appointment,  or  holding  himself  l>a<  k 
for  a  moment,  on  account  of  the  weather.  There  never  was  a 
snow  so  dee]),  or  a  wind  so  high,  or  a  rain  so  driving,  or  a  night 
so  black  that  the  thought  seemed  to  enter  his  head  that  he  must 
give  up  a  meeting.  I  have  many  times  seen  him,  on  cold,  bitter 
nights,  take  out  his  old  silk  handkerchief  and  put  it  on,  and  go 
forth  into  the  storm  without  seeming  to  dread  it  ;  and  often,  as 
1  have  remembered  it,  I  have  wished  I  could  put  on  his  spirit  in 
the  same  way.  He  did  it  as  a  matter  of  course.  And  such  was 
the  effect  of  his  example  on  his  children  that  there  was  not  one 
of  them  that  would  not  be  ashamed  to  show  the  '  white  feather  ' 
in  the  presence  of  external  difficulties. 

"  When  I  was  a  boy  I  learned  some  hymns,  and  committed  to 
memory  an  indefinite  number  of  texts,  and  waded  a  certain  dis- 
tance into  the  catechism,  never  getting  through  it  ;  and  I  forgot 
them  again  very  quickly.  But  I  do  not  think  all  of  them  put  to- 
gether exerted  any  material  influence  upon  me  one  way  or  the 
other — they  did  not  remain  in  my  mind  to  be  understood  when 
I  was  older  ;  but  a  great  many  things  which  my  father  did,  but 
which  neither  he  nor  anybody  else  spoke  of,  have  had  a  strong  in- 
fluence on  my  whole  life.  For  instance,  his  defying  the  elements, 
making  himself  master  in  every  condition  and  under  all  circum- 
stances, and  exhibiting  an  indomitable  pluck  which  did  not 
pause  nor  shrink — that  made  a  powerful  impression  upon  me,  and 
has  been  one  of  the  reasons  of  the  success  of  my  life ;  not  just 
here  and  now,  but  in  my  earlier  career,  when  I  was  in  the  West 
on  the  frontier,  and  when  I  was  very  poor  and  had  to  do  a  great 
deal  of  rough  work  under  circumstances  of  discouragement.  I 
had  an  ideal  of  what  a  man  should  be  and  should  do,  and  it 
stood  me  in  stead  better  than  any  amount  of  catechetical  instruc- 
tion could  have  done." 

So  joined  these — the  stepmother,  the  mother,  the  humble  ser- 
vant in  the  family,  Charles  Smith  the  happy  Christian  black  man, 
Aunt  Esther,  and  the  father — hand-in-hand  with  nature,  with  the 
life  and  events  that  were  moving  on  around  them,  and  with  God, 
in  directing  and  moulding  him  in  every  part  in  these  early  years. 

There  were  none  of  them,  perhaps,  unusual,  certainly  not  un- 
precedented ;    for  others  besides  Henry  Ward  Beecher  have  had 


JO  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

heavenly-minded  and  large-hearted  mothers  ;  others,  as  well  as  he, 
have  been  trained  in  conscientiousness  and  have  had  a  happy 
Christian  example  set  before  them,  and  have  enjoyed  the  influ- 
ence of  fathers  full  of  manly  inspiration,  while  God  and  nature 
have  been  with  and  around  them,  and  yet  no  such  marked  results 
have  been  seen  as  in  him.  Something  native  there  was  in  the 
soil  that  enabled  it  to  respond  to  such  genial  influences  with  such 
unusual  fruitage.  We  are  driven,  in  accounting  for  this,  to  that 
especial  endowment  that  was  given  to  him  and  withheld  from 
others  through  the  will  of  One  who  gives  to  every  man  ac- 
cording to  His  own  good  pleasure.  "  And  to  one  He  gave  five 
talents." 

His  appearance  and  attainments  at  this  time  are  thus  summed 
up  by  Mrs.  Stowe  :  "  Henry  was  now  ten  years  old,  a  stocky, 
strong,  well-grown  boy,  loyal  to  duty,  trained  in  unquestioning 
obedience,  inured  to  patient  hard  work,  inured  also  to  the  hearing 
and  discussing  of  all  the  great  theological  problems  of  Calvinism 
which  were  always  reverberating  in  his  hearing ;  .  .  .  but  as  to 
any  mechanical  culture,  in  an  extremely  backward  state,  a  poor 
writer,  a  miserable  speller,  with  a  thick  utterance,  and  a  bashful 
reticence  which  seemed  like  stolid  stupidity.  .  .  . 

"  He  was  not  marked  out  by  the  prophecies  of  partial  friends 
for  any  brilliant  future.  He  had  precisely  the  organization 
which  often  passes  for  dulness  in  early  boyhood.  He  had  great 
deficiency  in  verbal  memory — a  deficiency  marked  in  him  through 
life.  He  was  excessively  sensitive  to  praise  and  blame,  extreme- 
ly diffident,  and  with  a  power  of  yearning,  undeveloped  emotions 
which  he  neither  understood  nor  could  express.  His  utterance 
was  thick  and  indistinct,  partly  from  bashfulness  and  partly 
from  an  enlargement  of  the  tonsils  of  the  throat,  so  that  in 
speaking  or  reading  he  was  with  difficulty  understood.  In 
forecasting  his  horoscope,  had  any  one  taken  the  trouble  then 
to  do  it,  the  last  success  that  ever  would  have  been  predicted 
for  him  would  have  been  that  of  an  orator  !  '  When  Henry  is 
sent  to  me  with  a  message,'  said  a  good  aunt,  '  I  always  have 
to  make  him  say  it  three  times.  The  first  time  I  have  no  man- 
ner of  an  idea  more  than  if  he  spoke  in  Choctaw  ;  the  second  I 
catch  a  word  now  and  then  ;  by  the  third  time  I  begin  to  under- 
stand.' " 

Of  the  bashfulness   referred  to  in  the  above  he  says  :  "  We 


REV.  11F.XRY  WARD  BEECHER 


7* 


had  our  own  fill  of  it  in  childhood.  To  walk  into  a  room  where 
'company'  was  assembled,  and  to  do  it  erectly  and  naturally,  was 
as  impossible  as  it  would  have  been  to  fly.  The  sensations  of 
Sensibility  were  dissolving.  Our  back-bone  grew  soft,  our  knees 
Lost  their  stiffness,  the  blood  rushed  to  the  head,  and  the  sight 
almost  left  our  eves.  We  have  known  something  of  pain  in  after- 
years,  but  few  pangs  have  been  more  acute  than  some  sufferings 
from  bashfulness  in  our  earlier  years." 

Healthy,  robust,  frolicksome,  conscientious,  obedient,  loving, 
and  efficient,  but  bashful  in  the  extreme  and  backward  in  all  his 
studies,  is  the  summing-up  that  we  must  make  of  Henry  Ward 
Beecher  at  this  period  of  his  life. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Boyhood — Sent  to  School  at  Bethlehem— The  Widow  Ingersoli's — Failure — 
A  Champion  — Sent  to  Catharine  Beecher's  School  in  Hartford — Hu- 
morous Incidents — Religious  Experience. 

TO  remedy  the  marked  defects  in  his  training,  noticed  in  the 
preceding  chapter,  something  must  be  done,  or  this  boy  will 
fail  not  only  of  becoming  a  student  but  of  acquiring  even  a 
decent  common-school  education.  Mr.  Brace's  select  school 
was  tried  for  a  year,  but  with  little  benefit.  After  a  good  many 
family  discussions  and  some  correspondence  it  was  decided  to 
place  him  in  a  private  school  in  the  village  of  Bethlehem,  seven 
miles  distant  from  his  home,  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Langdon,  to 
begin  study  in  earnest.  Of  this  important  era,  his  first  going 
from  home,  we  have  not  a  syllable,  as  we  are  aware,  from  his  own 
pen  or  lips.  That  there  was  a  mingled  feeling  of  pain  at  leaving 
home,  of  pleasure  in  the  novelty,  and  a  shrinking  from  the  new 
faces  and  the  new  duties,  every  one  who  remembers  this  epoch 
in  his  own  life  can  readily  imagine.  The  ride,  for  a  large  part 
of  the  distance  across  a  broad  plateau  that  stretched  away  cold 
and  strange  like  the  Downs  of  England,  was  well  calculated  to 
awaken  that  yearning  sadness  which  was  so  prominent  a  feature 
of  his  secret  experiences  from  childhood,  and  gave  in  part  that 
tone  of  melancholy  which  appears  so  markedly  in  everything 
that  we  know  of  him  at  this  period. 

Singularly  enough,  he  boarded  with  the  grandmother  of  the 
one  who  afterwards  became  his  son-in-law  and  is  now  aiding  to 
write  this  biography.  Her  name  was  Ingersoll,  and  she  is  well 
described  as  a  "  large-hearted,  kindly  woman,  a  widow,  living  in  a 
great,  comfortable  farm-house  where  everything  was  free  and  un- 
constrained." 

He  was  well  remembered  by  my  mother,  Mrs.  Martha  Ingersoll 
Scoville,  who,  being  somewhat  older  than  he,  had  him  much  under 
her  care.     She  said  he  was  always  a  good  boy  about  the  house. 

72 


73 


74  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

but  very  bashful.  "  I  used  to  feel  very  sorry  for  him,  he  seemed 
so  homesick.  He  liked  to  be  off  by  himself,  wandering  around 
in  the  woods,  and  I  don't  think  he  studied  much." 

This  was  true.  Whether  it  was  because  this  first  separa- 
tion from  home  brought  an  increase  of  those  gloomy  yearnings 
of  heartsickness  to  which  he  was  subject  at  times  through  life,  or 
simply  because  of  his  innate  dislike  to  the  study  of  mere  names 
and  forms  of  things,  that  he  failed  to  make  progress  in  his  books, 
no  one  knows.  We  only  know  on  the  authority  of  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Stowe,  that  "  Henry's  studies  were  mostly  with  gun  on  shoulder 
roving  the  depths  of  the  forest,  guiltless  of  hitting  anything  be- 
cause the  time  was  lost  in  dreamy  contemplation.  Whence  re- 
turning unprepared  for  school,  he  would  be  driven  to  the  expedi- 
ent of  writing  out  his  Latin  verb  and  surreptitiously  reading  it  out 
of  the  crown  of  his  hat — an  exercise  from  which  he  reaped  small 
profit,  either  mentally  or  morally."  This  was  not  understood  at 
home  at  the  time,  and  Dr.  Beecher  writes  concerning  him  : 

"  Mr.  Langdon  has  been  faithful  with  Henry,  and  I  trust  suc- 
cessful ;  he  says  in  a  letter  :  '  His  observance  of  my  regulations 
relating  to  study  has  become  exact  and  punctual.  His  diligence 
all  along  has  gradually  increased,  and  I  think  he  has  arrived  at 
that  full  purpose  which  will  insure  his  making  a  scholar.  My 
method  of  instruction  for  beginners  is  a  system  of  extended, 
minute,  and  reiterated  drilling,  and  the  make  of  his  mind  is  such 
as  fits  him  to  receive  benefit  from  the  operation." 

Perhaps  the  method  of  "  reiterated  drilling,  extended  and 
minute,"  was  not  so  well  adapted  to  the  boy  as  the  teacher 
thought.  At  all  events  we  have  this  testimony  on  the  other  side, 
that  "  after  a  year  spent  in  this  way  it  began  to  be  perceived  by 
the  elders  of  the  family  that  as  to  the  outward  and  visible  signs 
of  learning  he  was  making  no  progress." 

He  was  therefore  brought  home  to  Litchfield,  leaving  but  one 
incident  of  his  life  at  Bethlehem  especially  worthy  of  note.  It 
was  this  :  One  of  the  older  boys,  having  studied  Tom  Paine's 
"  Age  of  Reason,"  was  freely  advocating  infidel  sentiments  and 
gaining  a  strong  and  vicious  influence  over  his  companions. 
Young  Beecher  saw  it  and  came  to  the  rescue.  He  brushed  up 
the  knowledge  he  had  already  gained  at  the  hearth-stone  and 
table  of  his  home,  studied  "  Watson's  Apology,"  challenged  the 
advocate  of  Tom   Paine's  philosophy  to  a  debate,   and,  in   the 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  75 

judgment  of  the  school,  gained  a  complete  victory,   proving  him- 
self thus  early  to  be  a  doughty  champion  of  the  faith. 

The  experiment  at  Bethlehem  having  proved  substantially  a 
failure,  his  oldest  sister,  Catharine,  who  was  then  teaching  a 
young  ladies' school  in  Hartford,  proposed  to  take  the  boy  under 
her  care  to  see  what  she  could  do  with  him. 

If  his  nature  lay  in  strata,  as  has  been  said — the  one  a  dreamy, 
yearning  melancholy  lying  at  the  bottom,  which  had  its  full  ex- 
ercise in  his  lonely  wanderings  around  Bethlehem;  and  the  other, 
the  surface  one,  of  humor  and  fun — it  was  the  latter,  constantly 
effervescing  and  exploding,  that  appeared  in  his  life  in  his  sister's 
school  of  thirty  or  forty  girls  in  Hartford.  The  story  of  his  ar- 
ranging the  umbrellas  on  the  stairs  one  recess,  when  he  was  sup- 
posed to  be  studying  grammar,  so  that  when  the  outside  door  was 
opened  by  a  late  comer  the  whole  series  rushed  pell-mell  down 
into  the  street,  greatly  to  the  dismay  of  the  teachers  and  the  en- 
joyment of  the  school — with  whom,  of  course,  he  was  a  great  fa- 
vorite— is  well  known.  And  one  of  the  incidents  of  the  recita- 
tion-room is  equally  familiar,  but,  as  it  is  very  characteristic,  we 
give  it  place,  copied  verbatim  from  Mrs.  Stowe  : 

"  The  school-room  was  divided  into  two  divisions  in  gram- 
mar, under  leaders  on  either  side,  and  the  grammatical  reviews 
were  contests  for  superiority  in  which  it  was  vitally  important 
that  every  member  should  be  perfected.  Henry  was  generally 
the  latest  choice,  and  fell  on  his  side  as  an  unfortunate  accession, 
being  held  more  amusing  than  profitable  on  such  occasions. 

"  The  fair  leader  of  one  of  these  divisions  took  the  boy  aside 
to  a  private  apartment,  to  put  into  him  with  female  tact  and  in- 
sinuation those  definitions  and  distinctions  on  which  the  honor 
of  the  class  depended. 

"  '  Now,  Henry,  a  is  the  indefinite  article,  you  see,  and  must 
be  used  only  with  a  singular  noun.  You  can  say  a  man,  but 
you  can't  say  a  men,  can  you  ? '  'Yes,  I  can  say  amen,  too,'  was 
the  ready  rejoinder.  '  Father  says  it  always  at  the  end  of  his 
prayers.' 

1 '  Come,  Henry,  now  don't  be  joking !  Now  decline  he. 
'Nominative  he,  possessive  his,  objective  him.'  '  You  see  his  is 
possessive.  Now,  you  can  say  his  book,  but  you  can't  say  him 
book.'  'Yes,  I  do  say  hymn-book,  too,' said  the  impracticable 
scholar,  with  a  quizzical  twinkle.     Each  one  of  these  sallies  made 


J  6  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

his  young  teacher  laugh,  which  was  the  victory  he  wanted.  'But 
now,  Henry,  seriously,  just  attend  to  the  active  and  passive  voice. 
Now,  I  strike  is  active,  you  see,  because  if  you  strike  you  do 
something.  But  I  am  struck  is  passive,  because  if  you  are  struck 
you  don't  do  anything,  do  you  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  I  do — I  strike  back  again  ! '  " 

A  letter  from  the  afore-mentioned  teacher,  sent  to  him  with 
her  New  Year's  salutation,  January  i,  1858,  has  lately  come  to 
hand.  She  says,  in  recalling  this  incident  :  "  Memory  has  da- 
guerreotyped  upon  my  mind  a  boy,  a  small  specimen  of  perpetual 
motion,  perpetual  prank,  and  perpetual  desire  to  give  wrong  an- 
swers to  every  sober  grammatical  rule,  thereby  not  only  over- 
whelming Murray  but  the  studious  gravity  of  a  hundred  school- 
girls." 

"  Sometimes  his  views  of  philosophical  subjects  were  offered 
gratuitously.  Being  held  of  rather  a  frisky  nature,  his  sister  ap- 
pointed his  seat  at  her  elbow  when  she  heard  classes.  A  class 
in  natural  philosophy,  not  very  well  prepared,  was  stumbling 
through  the  theory  of  the  tides.  'I  can  explain  that,'  said 
Henry.  '  Well,  you  see,  the  sun  he  catches  hold  of  the  moon 
and  pulls  her,  and  she  catches  hold  of  the  sea  and  pulls  that,  and 
this  makes  the  spring  tides.'  '  But  what  makes  the  neap  tides  ?' 
'  Oh  !  that's  when  the  sun  stops  to  spit  on  his  hands,'  was  the 
brisk  reply. 

44  After  about  six  months  Henry  was  returned  to  his  parents' 
hands  with  the  reputation  of  being  an  inveterate  joker  and  an  in- 
different scholar.  It  was  the  opinion  of  his  class  that  there  was 
much  talent  lying  about  loosely  in  him,  if  he  could  only  be 
brought  to  apply  himself." 

Of  his  religious  life  at  this  time  we  have  a  glimpse  in  a  letter 
written  by  Dr.  Beecher  in  November,  1825  : 

"  Our  family  concert  of  prayer  was  held  in  the  study  on 
Thanksgiving  Day — your  mother,  Aunt  Esther,  Henry,  and 
Charles.  It  was  a  most  deeply  solemn,  tender,  and  interesting 
time.  .  .  .  Henry  and  Charles  have  both  been  awakened,  and 
are  easily  affected  and  seriously  disposed  now.  But  as  yet  it  is 
like  the  wind  upon  the  willow,  which  rises  as  soon  as  it  is  passed 
over.  It  does  not  grapple,  but  the  effect  is  good  in  giving  pow- 
er to  conscience,  and  moral  principle  producing  amendment  in 
conduct." 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER,  jj 

This  was  during  a  revival  which  was  then  in  progress  in 
Litchfield,  in  which  the  pastor  was  assisted  by  Mr.  Nettleton,  the 

•  revivalist  Of  that  period.      Henry  was  twelve  years  old. 

That  no  permanent  good  resulted  from  this  work  appears 
true,  as  the  doctor  feared,  but  for  a  reason  very  different  from 
that  which  he  gives. 

Henry  Ward  himself  tells  us  why  it  was  : 

"  My  mother — she  who  in  the  providence  of  God  took  me  to 
her  heart  when  my  own  mother  had  gone  to  see  my  Father  in 
heaven,  she  who  came  after  and  was  most  faithful  to  the  charge  of 
the  children  and  the  household — she  often  took  me,  and  prayed 
with  me,  and  read  me  the  word  of  God,  and  expounded  to  me  the 
way  of  duty,  and  did  all  that  seemed  to  her  possible,  I  know,  to 
make  it  easy  for  me  to  become  a  religious  child  ;  and  yet  there 
have  been  times  when  I  think  it  would  have  been  easier  for  me 
to  lay  my  hand  on  a  block  and  have  it  struck  off  than  to  open 
my  thoughts  to  her,  when  I  longed  to  open  them  to  some  one. 
How  often  have  I  started  to  go  to  her  and  tell  her  my  feel- 
ings, when  fear  has  caused  me  to  sheer  off  and  abandon  my 
purpose  !  My  mind  would  open  like  a  rosebud,  but,  alas  !  fear 
would  hold  back  the  blossom.  How  many  of  my  early  relig- 
ions pointings  fell,  like  an  over-drugged  rosebud,  without  a 
blossom  !  " 

Again,  and  more  at  length,  he  opens  his  religious  experiences 
of  the  whole  period  : 

"  I  remember  having  religious  impressions,  distinct  and  defi- 
nite, as  early  as  when  I  was  eight  or  nine  years  of  age. 

"  The  first  distinct  religious  feelings  I  had  were  in  connec- 
tion with  nature.  Although  I  was  born,  as  far  as  any  one  can 
be  born  so,  a  Calvinist,  and  although  I  was  conversant  at  a  very 
early  age  with  the  things  which  pertain  to  Calvinism,  yet,  as  I 
look  back,  I  see  that  the  only  religious  feelings  or  impressions  I 
had  were  those  which  were  excited  in  my  mind  through  the  un- 
conscious influence  of  God  through  nature.  It  was  not  until 
years  later  that  I  knew  it  was  the  divine  element.  I  yearned,  I 
longed,  for  purity  and  nobility.  I  had  the  beginnings  of  the  feel- 
ing of  self-renunciation.  I  had  a  wistful  desire  that  something 
higher,  something  superior  to  myself,  should  be  developed  out  of 
the  system  of  nature  to  help  me.  I  had  the  germs  of  evangelical 
teaching  ;  but  I  never  spoke  to  anybody  about  them,  and  it  seems 


7 8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

to  me  a  hermit  could  not  have  been  more  solitary,  so  far  as  that 
part  of  my  life  was  concerned,  than  I  was. 

11  The  next  thing  I  remember  was  a  transition,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  teaching,  from  the  religious  conditions  and  tendencies 
in  my  mind  to  a  speculative  state.  I  began  to  listen  to  sermons 
when  I  was  eight  or  nine  years  old,  and  what  seems  strange  is 
that  the  picturesque  parts  stopped  not  much  with  me  ;  that  they 
faded  out  of  my  mind  ;  that  the  colors  were  not  4  fast ' ;  but 
that  I  caught  hold  of  the  speculative  parts,  particularly  those 
which  were  most  insoluble,  about  which  men  knew  least  and 
taught  most — the  nature  of  God,  the  purposes  of  God,  the 
scheme  of  divine  government,  not  those  parts  which  are  tran- 
scendency important,  namely,  the  elements  of  justice,  truth,  and 
morality  commingled  ;  that  God  from  all  eternity  foreknew ; 
that,  foreknowing,  he  predestinated  ;  that  by  predestination 
things  were  fixed,  made  certain  ;  that  so  many  as  he  fore- 
ordained to  be  saved  would  be  saved,  do  what  they  would  or 
come  what  might — my  mind  greedily  seized  on  these,  not  merely 
as  undoubted  facts,  as  they  were  to  me,  but  as  having  special 
reference  to  myself. 

"I  recollect  being  sometimes,  as  it  were,  behind  the  entrench- 
ments of  such  a  doctrine,  and  wishing  I  could  get  over  them, 
and  feeling  that  I  would  give  everything  in  the  world  if  I  only 
knew  that  I  was  one  of  the  elect,  and  praying  that  God  would  in 
some  way  let  me  know  whether  I  was  or  not. 

"At  other  times  it  would  come  in  this  shape  :  I  had  proba- 
bly been  reprimanded  for  a  misdemeanor  or  a  delinquency,  or 
something  of  that  sort.  I  used  to  be  melancholy  and  to  sit  in 
judgment  upon  myself ;  and  I  remember  thinking,  '  Well,  it  is  no 
use  for  me  to  try  to  be  a  good  boy ' — not  a  saintly  boy  ;  that  sort 
did  not  abound  where  I  was  born,  and  I  was  certainly  no  excep- 
tion to  the  average  run.  I  don't  think  there  are  many  of  that 
kind  outside  of  Sunday-school  books.  Judged  by  the  ordinary 
standard,  I  was  a  very  good  boy.  I  had  no  vices,  and  no  ob- 
jectionable tendencies  except  those  which  sprang  from  robust 
health,  buoyant  spirits,  and  immense  nerve  resources.  But  1 
thought  I  was  a  base  sinner.  The  pulpit  represented  all  men  as 
being  sinners,  and  I  accepted  it  absolutely  and  literally.  I 
thought  I  was  an  awful  transgressor  ;  every  little  fault  seemed  to 
make  a  dreadful  sin  ;  and  I  would  say  to  myself,  '  There  !   I  am 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  79 

probably  one  of  the  reprobate.     I  have  tried  to  be  good,  but  I 

am  going  down.  The  probability  is,  I  am  not  one  of  the  ele<  t  ; 
and  what  is  the  use  of  my  trying  ?  If  I  am  not  fore-ordained  to 
be  saved  there  is  no  chance  for  me,  and  I  may  as  well  go  by  the 
wholesale  as  by  the  retail.'  So  sometimes  on  the  one  side  and 
sometimes  on  the  other  these  thoughts  wrought  upon  me.  Not 
once  or  twice  merely,  but  many  times,  they  passed  through  my 
mind.  They  were  the  sub-base,  as  it  were,  of  my  life.  I  think  it 
was  a  period  of  fifteen  or  twenty  years  before  I  got  relief  from 
that  undertone.  It  had  some  advantages  and  not  a  few  disad- 
vantages. 

"  If  I  had  had  the  influence  of  a  discreet,  sympathetic  Christian 
person  to  brood  over  and  help  and  encourage  me,  I  should  have 
been  a  Christian  child  from  my  mother's  lap,  I  am  persuaded  ; 
but  I  had  no  such  influence.  The  influences  of  a  Christian 
family  were  about  me,  to  be  sure,  but  they  were  generic  ;  and  I 
revolved  in  these  speculative  experiences,  my  strong  religious 
habitudes  taking  the  form  of  speculation  all  through  my  child- 
hood. I  recollect  that  from  the  time  that  I  was  about  ten  years 
old  I  began  to  have  periods  when  my  susceptibilities  were  so 
profoundly  impressed  that  the  outward  manifestations  of  my 
nature  were  changed.  I  remember  that  when  my  brother  George 
— who  was  next  older  than  I,  and  who  was  beginning  to  be  my 
helpful  companion,  to  whom  I  looked  up — became  a  Christian, 
being  awrakened  and  converted  in  college,  it  seemed  as  though  a 
gulf  had  come  between  us,  and  as  though  he  was  a  saint  on  one 
side  of  it  while  I  was  a  little  reprobate  on  the  other  side.  It 
was  awful  to  me.  If  there  had  been  a  total  eclipse  of  the  sun  I 
should  not  have  been  in  more  profound  darkness  outwardly  than 
I  was  inwardly.  I  did  not  know  whom  to  go  to  ;  I  did  not  dare 
to  go  to  my  father ;  I  had  no  mother  that  I  ever  went  to  at  such 
a  time  ;  I  did  not  feel  like  going  to  my  brother  ;  and  I  did  not 
go  to  anybody.  I  felt  that  I  must  try  to  wrestle  out  my  own 
salvation. 

"  Once,  on  coming  home,  I  heard  the  bell  toll,  and  I  learned 
that  it  was  for  the  funeral  of  one  of  my  companions  with  whom 
I  had  been  accustomed  to  play,  and  with  whom  I  had  grown  up. 
I  did  not  know  that  he  had  been  sick,  but  he  had  dropped  into 
eternity  ;  and  the  ringing,  swinging,  booming  of  that  bell,  if  it 
had  been  the  sound  of  an  angel  trumpet  of  the  last  day,  would 


80  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

not  have  seemed  to  me  more  awful.  I  went  into  an  ecstasy  of 
anguish.  At  intervals,  for  days  and  weeks,  I  cried  and  prayed. 
There  was  scarcely  a  retired  place  in  the  garden,  in  the  wood- 
house,  in  the  carriage-house,  or  in  the  barn  that  was  not  a  scene 
of  my  crying  and  praying.  It  was  piteous  that  I  should  be  in 
such  a  state  of  mind,  and  that  there  should  be  nobody  to  help  me 
and  lead  me  out  into  the  light.  I  do  not  recollect  that  to  that 
day  one  word  had  been  said  to  me,  or  one  syllable  had  been  ut- 
tered in  the  pulpit,  that  led  me  to  think  there  was  any  mercy  in 
the  heart  of  God  for  a  sinner  like  me.  For  a  sinner  that  had  re- 
pented it  was  thought  there  was  pardon  ;  but  how  to  repent  was 
the  very  thing  I  did  not  know.  A  converted  sinner  might  be 
saved,  but  for  a  poor,  miserable,  faulty  boy,  that  pouted,  and  got 
mad  at  his  brothers  and  sisters,  and  did  a  great  many  naughty 
things,  there  was  no  salvation  so  far  as  I  had  learned.  My  innu- 
merable shortcomings  and  misdemeanors  were  to  my  mind  so 
many  pimples  that  marked  my  terrible  depravity ;  and  I  never 
had  the  remotest  idea  of  God  except  that  he  was  a  Sovereign 
who  sat  with  a  sceptre  in  his  hand  and  had  his  eye  on  me,  and 
said  :  '  I  see  you,  and  I  am  after  you.'  So  I  used  to  live  in  per- 
petual fear  and  dread,  and  often  I  wished  myself  dead.  I  tried 
to  submit  and  lay  down  the  weapons  of  my  rebellion,  I  tried  to 
surrender  everything  ;  but  it  did  not  seem  to  do  any  good,  and 
I  thought  it  was  because  I  did  not  do  it  right.  I  tried  to  conse- 
crate myself  to  God,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  I  did  everything,  so 
far  as  I  could,  that  others  did  who  professed  to  be  Christians,  but 
I  did  not  feel  any  better.  I  passed  through  two  or  three  revivals. 
I  remember,  when  Mr.  Nettleton  was  preaching  in  Litchfield, 
going  to  carry  a  note  to  him  from  father  ;  and  for  a  sensitive, 
bashful  boy  like  me  it  was  a  severe  ordeal.  I  went  to  the  room 
where  he  was  speaking,  with  the  note  in  my  trembling  hand,  and 
had  to  lay  it  on  the  desk  beside  him.  Before  I  got  half-way 
across  the  floor  I  was  dazed  and  everything  seemed  to  swim 
around  me  ;  but  I  made  out  to  get  the  note  to  him,  and  he  said  : 
'  That's  enough  ;  go  away,  boy,'  and  I  sort  of  backed  and  stum- 
bled toward  the  door  (I  was  always  stumbling  and  blundering  in 
company),  and  sat  down.  He  was  preaching  in  those  whispered 
tones  which  always  seem  louder  than  thunder  to  the  conscience, 
although  they  are  only  whispers  in  the  ear.  He  had  not  uttered 
more  than  three  sentences  before  my  feelings  were  excited,  and 


:\  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  8l 

the  more  1  listened  the  more  awful  1  felt;  and  I  said  to  myself: 

'  I  will  stay  to  the  Inquiry  meeting.'  I  heard  Mr.  Nettleton  t.ilk 
about  souls  writhing  under  conviction,  and  1  thought  my  soul 
was  writhing  under  conviction.     1  had  heard  father  say  that  after 

persons  had  writhed  under  conviction  a  week  or  two  they  began 

to  come  out,  and  1  said:  'Perhaps  I  will  get  out';  and  that 
thought  produced  in  me  a  sort  of  half-exhilaration  of  joy.  I 
stayed  to  the  inquiry  meeting,  felt  better,  and  trotted  home  with 
the  hope  that  1  was  on  the  way  toward  conversion.  I  went 
through  this  revival  with  that  hope  strengthened  ;  but  it  did  not 
last  long." 

It  is  evident  from  this  chapter  that  if  we  would  understand 
Henry  Ward  Beecher  and  the  influences  that  went  to  the  forma- 
tion of  his  character  and  to  the  success  of  his  life,  other  things 
than  parentage,  home,  school,  or  nature  must  be  taken  into  the 
account.  The  vast  things  of  the  invisible  realm  have  begun  to 
speak  to  him,  and  his  nature  has  proved  to  be  peculiarly  sensitive 
to  their  influence. 

He  is  thus  early  groping,  unresting,  and  unsatisfied  ;  but  it  is 
among  mountains,  and  not  in  marshes  or  quicksands.  Some  day 
these  mountain  truths,  among  which  he  now  wanders  in  dark- 
ness, shall  be  radiant  in  his  sight  with  the  Divine  Compassion 
and  his  gloom  shall  give  place  to  abiding  love,  joy,  and  peace. 


CHAPTER   V. 

Boston — Home  Atmosphere — Various  Experiences — Ethics  rubbed  in  by  a 
six-pound  Shot — Discontent — Makes  up  his  mind  to  go  to  Sea — To 
Study  Navigation — Picture  of  his  Life  in  Boston. 

IN   the  spring  of  1826  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  moved  with  his  fam- 
ily to  Boston.     Henry  Ward  was  thirteen  years  old  the  follow- 
ing June,   "  a  green,  healthy  country  lad,"  "  with  a  round,  full, 
red-cheeked  face."     Here  a  new  world  opened  to  him  and  a  new 
set  of  influences  was  brought  to  bear  upon  him. 

The  same  home  life  was  around  him,  and,  if  possible,  more  in- 
tense than  ever  ;  for  Dr.  Beecher  had  come  to  Boston  to  be  the 
champion  "  of  the  Faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints,"  and  he 
threw  himself  into  the  work  with  all  the  zeal  and  enthusiasm  of 
an  intensely  ardent  nature. 

He  had  watched  with  intense  interest  every  step  of  that  reac- 
tion in  Massachusetts  from  the  strict  theocracy  of  the  Puritans, 
called  the  "  Unitarian  Controversy."  He  thoroughly  understood 
and  heartily  condemned  the  process,  employed  by  the  wealthy  and 
literary  classes,  of  taking  away  from  the  church,  composed  pre- 
sumably of  regenerate  persons,  the  power  to  govern  their  own 
affairs  and  of  giving  it  to  the  congregation,  which  was  often  compos- 
ed of  men  hostile  to  a  spiritual  religion.  He  had  seen  the  domi- 
nant majority  enter  into  the  possession  of  church  edifices  and 
church  property,  employ  ministers  opposed  to  the  old  faith,  and 
drive  the  orthodox  ministry  out  into  school-houses  and  town-halls  ; 
and  old  foundations  established  by  the  fathers  to  perpetuate  the 
faith  had  been  seized  and  made  to  support  opposite  and  antago- 
nistic views.  All  this  had  kindled  in  him  a  burning  indignation 
against  the  wrong  that  had  been  perpetrated,  and  a  deep  sympathy 
for  the  brethren  who  had  suffered.  "  It  was  as  a  fire  in  my  bones," 
he  said.  "  My  mind  was  all  the  time  heating,  heating,  heating." 
"  His  family  prayers,"  we  are  told  by  Mrs.  Stowe,  "  at  this 
period,  departing  from  the  customary  forms  of  unexcited  hours, 
became  often  upheavings  of  passionate  emotion  such  as  I  shall 
never  forget.    '  Come,  Lord  Jesus,'  he  would  say,  'here  where  the 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  fi\  83 

bones   of   the    fathers    rest,  here  where    the   croWD    has   been    torn 

from  thy  brow — come  and  recall  thy  wandering  children.  Behold 
thy  tloek  scattered  on  the  mountains  ;  these  sheep,  what  have  they 
done?     Gather  them,   gather  them,  O  Good  Shepherd,  for  their 

feet  stumble  upon  the  dark   mountains." 

Mr.  Beecher  in  after-years  spoke  of  the  work  here  as  some- 
thing deeper  than  a  mere  dispute  between  rival  denominations 
or  antagonistic  needs.  "The  outward  form  of  the  great  e\<  ite- 
ment  was  that  of  controversy  between  the  Unitarian  and  Cal- 
vinistic  faiths.  But,  as  compared  with  the  great  inward  reality, 
this  was  but  superficial.  It  was  broader  than  any  doctrinal 
controversy,  deeper  than  any  sectarian  conflict.  It  was  a  resur- 
rection of  vital  religion,  in  all  churches  of  every  name,  and  in 
the  Unitarian  churches  as  well  as  the  Evangelical." 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  same  atmosphere  of  deep  feeling  and 
triumphant  faith,  if  possible  more  tropical  and  more  thoroughly 
charged  with  electricity,  continued  in  the  new  as  in  the  old  home  ; 
but  outside  the  family  very  different  influences  were  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  lad,  and  he  was  led  out  into  a  much  wider  range  of 
experiences.     We  give  as  many  of  these  as  space  will  allow. 

The  first  thing  that  greatly  impressed  him  seems  to  have  been 
the  bells: 

*' Is  there  any  boy  left  in  Boston  to  whose  ears  the  Christ 
Church  chimes  sound  as  they  did  to  mine  ?  Some  travelled  per- 
sons in  Litchfield  had  informed  me  that  the  churches  in  Boston 
were  so  thick  that  the  bells  on  Sunday  morning  would  almost 
play  a  tune.  The  first  Sunday  morning  after  the  family  took 
possession  of  the  house  in  Sheafe  Street,  being  in  the  back-yard, 
I  heard  in  a  wondrous  manner  the  tune  of  'Greenville,'  played  on 
bells  !     The  whole  air  was  full  of  '  Greenville.' 

"  I  was  fully  persuaded  that  this  was  the  thing  predicted,  and 
that  this  tune  simply  fell  into  place  among  the  vast  number  of 
bell-strokes.  Too  young  to  analyze  or  reason  upon  the  matter, 
I  listened  with  a  pleasure  and  amazement  which  I  fear  nothing 
will  ever  give  me  again  till  I  hear  the  bells  ring  out  wondrous 
things  in  the  New  Jerusalem.  Blessed  city  !  in  which  dwelt  so 
divine  a  spirit  of  harmony  that  some  airy  hand  governed  the 
widely  scattered  belfries,  and  taught  the  notes  which  each  bell 
carelessly  struck  to  come  together  in  time  and  tune,  and  march 
through  the  air  in  harmony.     And  when,  after  a  few  minutes,  the 


84  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

tune  changed  and  'St.  Martyn's  '  came  sadly  and  slowly  through 
the  air,  I  could  contain  myself  no  longer,  but  rushed,  red  and 
eager,  to  bring  out  '  Charles,'  the  inseparable  companion  of  all 
my  marvels,  who  opened  his  great  eyes  with  a  look  of  amaze- 
ment as  utter  and  implicit  as  if  he  had  been  a  young  devotee  wit- 
nessing his  first  miracle.  I  expounded  to  him  the  cause,  taking 
for  text  the  reports  which  had  been  made  to  me  while  yet  in  the 
country.  Alas  for  marvels  !  The  cook,  overhearing,  laughed  us 
out  of  countenance,  and  explained  that  it  was  a  chime  of  bells, 
and  also  what  a  chime  was.  Of  course  we  were  wiser  and  less 
happy.  But  never,  in  forty  years,  has  that  chime  of  bells  sounded 
in  my  ears  without  bringing  back,  for  a  second,  the  first  electric 
shock  of  wonder  and  pleasure." 

"  Xext  to  Boston  bells  were  Boston  ships.  Here  first  we  be- 
held a  ship  !  We  shall  never  again  see  anything  that  will  so 
profoundly  affect  our  imagination.  We  stood  and  gazed  upon 
the  ship,  and  smelt  the  sea-air,  and  looked  far  out  along  the 
water  to  the  horizon,  and  all  that  we  had  ever  read  of  bucca- 
neers, of  naval  battles,  of  fleets  of  merchantmen,  of  explorations 
into  strange  seas,  among  rare  and  curious  things,  rose  up  in  a 
cloud  of  mixed  and  changing  fancies,  until  we  scarcely  knew 
whether  we  were  in  the  body  or  out.  How  many  hours  have 
we  asked  and  wanted  no  better  joy  than  to  sit  at  the  end  of  the 
wharf,  or  on  the  deck  of  some  newly-come  ship,  and  rock  and 
ride  on  the  stream  of  our  own  unconscious  imagination  !  We 
went  to  school  in  Boston  Harbor. 

"  Next  to  the  merchant  marine  was  the  Navy-Yard.  We 
stole  over  to  Charlestown  almost  every  week.  With  what  awe  we 
walked  past  the  long  rows  of  unmounted  cannon  !  With  what 
exhilaration  we  looked  forth  from  the  mounted  sea-battery  that 
looked  down  the  harbor,  and  just  waited  for  some  Britisher  to  dare 
to  come  in  sight  !  We  have  torn  any  number  of  ships  to  pieces 
with  those  cannon,  with  imagination  for  our  commodore  and 
patriotism  for  our  cannoneer.  There  have  been  great  battles  in 
Boston  harbor  that  nobody  knows  anything  about  but  ourself !  " 

Other  experiences  there  were  of  a  different  nature. 

The  peaceful  life  of  the  quiet  New  England  village,  where 
each  one  took  his  place  mostly  by  the  position  of  the  family  and 
held  it  largely  undisturbed,  had  given  way  to  that  of  a  city  full  of 
antagonisms  and  strife.     It   was  a  life  not  exactly  in  accordance 


RE  I '.   HENR  V  WARD  BEEi  HER. 

with  the  instructions  of  a  well  regulated  Christian  family,  bul  its 
rough  experiences  were  undoubtedly  adapted  to  bring  ou1  some 
qualities  that  wore  useful  in  an  after-career  in  which  battle 

to  ha\  e  50  prominent  a  place. 

**  It  was  with  some  slight  contempt  that  we  beheld  our  first 
companions.  Our  first  home  was  in  Sheafe  Street,  far  down  at 
the  North  End,  next  door  to  Mr.  Gay,  the  landlord.  'The  boys 
thereabouts  were  smart  and  lively,  but  few  of  them  could  wres- 
tle, and  none  (A'  them  often  held  out  with  us  in  a  downright  race. 
I   was  always  long-winded,  even  before   I  began  public  speaking. 

"  In  those  days  no  boy  was  a  good  boy  among  his  fellows 
who  had  not  the  courage  of  battle.  It  was  the  duty  of  all  living 
in  certain  districts,  upon  proper  occasion,  to  fight  the  boys  of 
other  streets  or  districts.  The  Salem-Streeters  included  all  the 
small  streets  adjacent — Sheafe  Street,  Bennett  Street,  etc.  When 
nothing  else  was  on  hand  small  scrimmages  were  gotten  up  be- 
ll ourselves — Sheafe  Street  vs.  Bennett  Street,  etc.;  but  we  all 
united  against  Prince  Street.  Prince-Streeters  were  the  natural 
enemies  of  all  the  surrounding  streets.  Yet,  when  the  West-End- 
ers  came  over  in  battle  array,  yelling,  throwing  stones,  and  driv- 
ing in  the  timid  lads  caught  out  of  bounds,  all  the  North-Enders 
rose,  forgot  their  local  feuds,  and  went  forth  in  awful  array  to 
chastise  the  wretches  that  lived  at  the  West  End.  And  if  one 
were  to  believe  all  the  feats  of  which  we  boasted  for  a  month 
thereafter,  he  would  be  sure  that  since  the  days  that  Homer  sang 
no  such  fighting  had  ever  taken  place. 

"  But  what  were  all  these  things  to  that  implacable  and  in- 
eradical  hatred  which  all  true  Boston  boys  entertained  against 
Charlestown  Pigs  ?  For  by  such  a  title  did  we  expose  the  mean- 
ness, the  degradation,  the  cowardice,  the  utter  despicableness  of 
a  boy  born  the  other  side  of  the  'draw'  of  the  Charlestown 
Bridge  !  " 

While  the  father  was  coming  to  leadership  in  the  pulpit  his 
son  Henry  was  reaching  the  same  point  in  his  set  by  the  only 
way  opened  to  him  at  that  time. 

"  Copp's  Hill  ?  It  recalled  many  a  boyish  prank.  One  sport 
engaged  our  youthful  leisure.  It  was  called  '  Follow  your  lead- 
er.' It  was  considered  as  a  testimony  to  one's  courage  when,  by 
acclamation,  he  was  elected  '  to  leadership  !  The  game  was 
simple  ;  but  the  results,  always  amusing,  were  sometimes  some- 


S6  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

what  too  stimulating  for  pleasure.  The  leader  started  upon  a 
run,  with  a  long  trail  of  boys  in  a  line  behind  him,  whom  he  en- 
deavored to  throw  off  by  doing  things  which  they  were  not  strong 
enough  or  skilful  or  daring  enough  to  imitate.  If  twenty  boys 
started,  half  would  drop  away,  after  a  sharp  run,  by  mere  want 
of  breath  ;  another  section  could  be  thrown  off  by  some  feat 
that  terrified  them. 

"  We  recall  one  memorable  chase.  Called  to  the  head  of  the 
column,  I  plunged  down  Margaret's  Lane,  up  Prince  and  back, 
up  toward  Copp's  Hill,  reducing  my  followers,  by  sheer  exhaus- 
tion, one-half.  A  brick  house  was  going  up  ;  into  it  I  dashed,  ran 
up  the  ladder,  walked  along  the  floor-joists,  and  let  myself  down 
by  a  rope  attached  to  a  guy  on  the  front.  Only  six  or  seven 
could  follow.  A  large  mortar-bed  lay  near  by.  I  dashed  into 
that,  wading  through  the  slush.  Five  came  out  on  the  other  side 
with  me.  Tough  five  !  They  followed  me  into  a  shop,  right  back 
into  the  adjacent  parlor,  out  at  a  side-door,  though  some  of  the 
last  got  the  yard-stick  well  laid  on  by  the  indignant  shop-keeper, 
and  the  last  one  out  came  dripping  from  a  pail  of  water  which  a 
woman  flung  after  '  the  nasty  varmints.'  as  she  stvled  us.  Many 
other  feats  did  we,  but  in  vain.  The  five  would  stick.  I  remem- 
ber that  a  large  part  of  Copp's-  Hill  had  been  dug  down  for  filling 
the  'Causeway.'  leaving  a  precipitous  face — well,  say  fifty  feet 
high  to  the  eyes,  but,  if  measured,  perhaps  twenty  feet.  Ascend- 
ing the  hill,  I  drew  near  the  verge,  a  little  hesitant  to  venture  the 
plunge.  But  to  confess  that  I  dare  not  do  anything  would  be  dis- 
graceful, and  so,  with  but  a  moment's  pause.  I  jumped  for  a  little 
crumbling  foothold  half-way  down,  and  off  from  that,  as  soon  as 
on  it,  to  the  bottom,  which  I  reached  in  a  heap,  with  dirt  and 
stones  and  two  boys  following  after  !  Not  stopping  to  rub  my 
shins,  rejoicing  that  only  two  were  left,  and  desperate,  I  took  my 
way  to  the  near  wharf  where  k  Billy  Gray's  '  ships  used  to  be, 
climbed  the  side,  ran  along  the  deck,  up  the  bowsprit,  far  out, 
and  then,  with  a  spring,  off  into  deep  water  !  Down,  doA\n,  down 
we  went,  and  seemed  likely  to  go  on  for  ever.  At  length  the  de- 
scent stopped,  and  we  rose  again  to  the  surface — O  joy  ! — to  see 
the  two  boys  standing  on  the  bowsprit !  They  did  not  dare  ! 
That  day's  work  established  our  reputation  !  We  know  how  Al- 
exander felt  !  Caesar  and  Xapoleon  can  tell  us  nothing  new 
about   the  glories  of  victory  !  " 


REV.  IIF.XRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

That  his  country  honesty  was  oot  altogether  proof  against  the 
temptations  of  Ins  life  in  the  city  is  shown  by  a  description  he 
gives,  in  "  Eyes  and  Ears,"  of  Ins  successful  attempt  to  purloin  a 
six-pound  cannon-ball  from  the  Navy-Yard: 

"One  day  I  visited  some  ill-constructed  vaults  where  shot  had 
been  stored.  The  six  and  twelve  pound  shot  were  extremely 
tempting.  I  had  no  particular  use  for  them.  1  am  to  this 
day  puzzled  to  know  why  I  coveted  them.  There  was  no 
chance  in  the  house  to  roll  them,  and  as  little  in  the  street. 
base-ball  or  shinty  they  were  altogether  too  substantial.  But  I 
was  seized  with  an  irresistible  desire  to  possess  one.  As  I  had 
been  well  brought  up,  of  course  the  first  objection  arose  on  the 
score  of  stealing.  But  I  disposed  of  that,  with  a  patriotic  facility 
that  ought  long  before  this  to  have  sent  me  to  Congress,  by  the 
plea  that  it  was  no  sin  to  steal  from  the  government.  Next,  how 
should  I  convey  the  shot  from  the  Yard  without  detection  ?  I 
tried  it  in  my  handkerchief.  That  was  altogether  too  plain.  I 
tried  my  jacket-pocket,  but  the  sag  and  shape  of  that  alarmed  my 
fears.  I  tried  my  breeches-pocket,  but  the  abrupt  protuberance 
was  worse  than  all.  I  had  a  good  mind  to  be  honest,  since  there 
was  no  feasible  way  of  carrying  it  off.  At  length  a  thought 
struck  me  :  Wrap  a  handkerchief  about  it  and  put  it  in  your 
hat. 

u  The  iron  ball  was  accordingly  swaddled  with  the  handker- 
chief and  mounted  on  my  head,  and  the  hat  shut  over  it.  I 
emerged  from  the  vault  a  little  less  courageous  than  was  pleasant, 
and  began  my  march  toward  the  gate.  Every  step  seemed  a 
mile.  Every  man  I  met  looked  unusually  hard  at  me.  The  ma- 
rines evidently  were  suspecting  my  hat.  Some  sailors,  leering 
and  rolling  toward  the  ships,  seemed  to  look  me  through.  The 
perspiration  stood  all  over  my  face  as  an  officer  came  toward  me. 
Xow  for  it  !  I  was  to  be  arrested,  put  in  prison,  cat-o'-nine-tail- 
ed,  or  shot,  for  aught  I  knew.  I  wished  the  ball  in  the  bottom  of 
the  sea ;  but  no,  it  was  on  the  top  of  my  head  ! 

"  By  this  time,  too,  it  had  grown  very  heavy;  I  must  have  made 
a  mistake  in  selecting  !  I  meant  a  six-pounder,  but  I  was  sure  it 
must  have  been  a  twelve-pounder,  and  before  I  got  out  of  the 
Yard  it  weighed  twenty-four  pounds  !  I  began  to  fear  that  the 
stiffness  with  wrhich  I  carried  my  neck  would  excite  suspicion,  and 
so  I  tried  to  limber  up  a  little,  which  had  nearly  ruined  me,  for 


88 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


the  shot  took  a  roll  around  my  crown  in  a  manner  that  liked  to 
have  brought  me  and  my  hat  to  the  ground.  Indeed,  I  felt  like 
a  loaded  cannon,  and  every  man  and  everything  was  like  a  spark 
trying  to  touch  me  off.  The  gate  was  a  great  way  farther  off 
than  I  had  ever  found  it  before  ;  I  seemed  likely  never  to  get 
there. 

"  And  when  at  length,  heartsore  and  headsore,  with  my  scalp 
well  rolled,  I  got  to  the  gate,  all  my  terror  came  to  a  culmination 
as  the  sentinel  stopped  his  marching,  drew  himself  up,  and,  look- 
ing through  me,  smiled.  I  expected  him  to  say  :  '  O  you  little 
thievish  devil,  do  you  think  I  do  not  see  through  you  ? '  But, 
bless  his  heart  !  he  only  said  :  k  Pass  !  '  He  did  not  say  it  twice. 
I  walked  a  few  steps  farther,  and  then,  having  great  faith  in  the 
bravery  of  my  feet,  I  pulled  my  hat  off  before  me,  and,  carrying 
it  in  that  position,  I  whipped  around  the  first  corner  and  made 
for  the  bridge  with  a  speed  which  Flora  Temple  would  envy. 

"  When  I  reached  home  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  my  shot.  I 
did  not  dare  show  it  in  the  house  nor  tell  where  I  got  it  ;  and 
after  one  or  two  solitary  rolls  I  gave  it  away  on  the  same  day  to 
a  Prince-Streeter. 

"  But,  after  all,  that  six-pounder  rolled  a  good  deal  of  sense 
into  my  skull.  I  think  it  was  the  last  thing  I  ever  stole  (ex- 
cepting a  little  matter  of  a  heart  now  and  then),  and  it  gave  me 
a  notion  of  the  folly  of  coveting  more  than  you  can  enjoy,  which 
has  made  my  whole  life  happier.  It  was  rather  a  severe  mode  of 
catechising,  but  ethics  rubbed  in  with  a  six-pound  shot  are  bet- 
ter than  none  at  all." 

His  student  life,  which  had  been  such  a  failure  heretofore, 
was  improved  a  little,  and  but  a  little.  By  means  of  the  pressure 
of  school  discipline,  backed  up  and  made  formidable  by  fam- 
ily pride  and  the  advice  and  exhortations  heard  at  home,  he 
managed  to  make  fair  progress  in  most  of  his  studies,  especially 
in  the  rules  and  exceptions  of  the  Latin  grammar,  and  to  the 
day  of  his  death  was  able  to  establish  his  claims  to  proficiency 
in  that  language  by  rattling  off  the  list  of  eleven  prepositions 
that  govern  the  ablative.  But  his  heart  was  not  in  the  work. 
Disgust,  insurrection,  revolution,  was  the  stormy  way  along 
which  he  was  rapidly  travelling. 

This  period  in  his  own  life  is  described  in  "  Norwood "  : 
"  Lonor  before  the  Amazon    reaches   the  ocean  it  has  £rown  so 


A'AT.  S/F.XKY    It  EC  HER. 

wide  that  from  the  channel  no  shore  can  be  seen  from  either 
side.  It  is  still  a  riser,  but  with  all  the  signs  and  symptoms  of 
becoming  an  ocean.     There  is  a  period,  beginning  not  far  from 

fourteen,  in  young  lives,  when  childhood  is  widened  suddenly, 
and  carries  its  banks  so  far  out  that  manhood  seems  begun, 
though  as  yet  it  is  far  off.  The  stream  is  ocean-deep.  Upon 
this  estuary  of  youth  the  currents  are  shifting,  the  eddies  are 
many.  Here  are  united  the  strength  of  the  sea  and  the  hin- 
drances of  the  land. 

14  The  important  organic  changes  which,  in  our  zone,  take 
place  in  the  second  full  seven  of  years,  produce  important  results 
even  in  the  coldest  temperaments  and  in  the  slenderest  natures. 
But  in  persons  of  vigor  of  body  and  strength  of  feeling  there 
is  frequently  an  uprising  like  a  city  in  insurrection.  The  young 
nature,  swelling  to  the  new  influences  with  a  sense  of  immeasur- 
able strength,  sometimes  turbulent  with  passions,  but  always 
throbbing  with  excited  feelings  led  on  and  fed  by  tantalizing 
fancies,  seems  transformed  from  its  previous  self  and  becomes  a 
new  nature.  New  moral  forces  are  developed  into  activity. 
Aspirations  begin  to  quicken  the  soul.      Ambitions  grow  nobler." 

Mrs.  Stowe  says  :  "  The  era  of  fermentation  and  development 
was  upon  him,  and  the  melancholy  that  had  brooded  over  his 
childhood  waxed  more  turbulent  and  formidable.  He  grew 
gloomy  and  moody,  restless  and  irritable.  His  father,  noticing 
the  change,  got  him  on  a  course  of  biographical  reading,  hoping 
to  divert  his  thoughts.  He  began  to  read  naval  histories,  the 
lives  of  great  sailors  and  commanders,  the  voyages  of  Captain 
Cook,  the  biography  of  Nelson  ;  and  immediately,  like  lightning 
flashing  out  of  rolling  clouds,  came  the  determination  not  to  rest 
any  longer  in  Boston,  learning  terminations  and  prepositions,  but 
to  go  forth  to  a  life  of  enterprise.  He  made  up  his  little  bundle, 
walked  the  wharf  and  talked  with  sailors  and  captains,  hovered 
irresolute  on  the  verge  of  voyages,  never  quite  able  to  grieve 
his  father  by  a  sudden  departure.  At  last  he  wrote  a  letter 
announcing  to  a  brother  that  he  could  and  would  no  longer 
remain  at  school  ;  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  for  the  sea  ; 
that  if  not  permitted  to  go  he  should  go  without  permission. 
This  letter  was  designedly  dropped  where  his  father  picked  it 
up.  Dr.  Beecher  put  it  in  his  pocket  and  said  nothing  for  the 
moment,  but  the  next  day  asked  Henry  to  help  him  saw  wood. 


gO  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

Now,  the  wood-pile  was  the  doctor's  favorite  debating-ground, 
and  Henry  felt  complimented  by  the  invitation,  as  implying 
manly  companionship. 

"  '  Let  us  see,'  said  the  doctor,  '  Henry,  how  old  are  you  ? ' 
'  Almost  fourteen  ! '  '  Bless  me  !  How  boys  do  grow  !  Why,  it's 
almost  time  to  be  thinking  what  you  are  going  to  do.  Have  you 
ever  thought  ? '  '  Yes  ;  I  want  to  go  to  sea.'  '  To  sea  !  Of  all 
things  !  Well,  well  !  After  all,  why  not  ?  Of  course  you  don't 
want  to  be  a  common  sailor.  You  want  to  get  into  the  navy  ? ' 
'Yes,  sir;  that's  what  I  want.'  'But  not  merely  as.  a  common 
sailor,  I  suppose?'  'No,  sir;  I  want  to  be  a  midshipman,  and 
after  that  a  commodore.'  '  I  see,'  said  the  doctor  cheerfully. 
'  Well,  Henry,  in  order  for  that,  you  know,  you  must  begin  a 
course  of  mathematics  and  study  navigation  and  all  that.'  '  Yes, 
sir ;  I  am  ready.'  '  Well,  then,  I  will  send  you  up  to  Amherst 
next  week,  to  Mount  Pleasant,  and  then  you'll  begin  your  prepa- 
ratory studies,  and  if  you  are  well  prepared  I  presume  I  can  make 
interest  to  get  you  an  appointment.'  " 

And  so  he  went  to  Mount  Pleasant,  in  Amherst,  Mass.,  and 
Dr.  Beecher  said  shrewdly  :  "  I  shall  have  that  boy  in  the  minis- 
try yet." 

In  a  sermon  preached  by  his  brother,  Rev.  T.  K.  Beecher,  we 
have  this  picture  : 

"  All  of  you  know  more  about  '  Henry  Ward  Beecher  '  than  I 
do,  but  I  know  more  about  '  Brother  Henry  '  than  you  do. 

"  A  little  Boston  boy  five  years  old  had  a  brother  Henry  who 
was  sixteen,  and  a  brother  Charles  who  was  fourteen  ;  and  though 
he  knew  of  David  and  Goliath,  who  '  fell  down  slambang,'  and 
David,  '  little  David  ran  up  and  cut  his  head  off '  !  though  he 
knew  about  Samson  and  the  lion,  yet  for  the  present  strength  and 
greatness  Henry  and  Charles  were  his  heroes.  Did  they  not 
own  a  long  sled  and  coast  down  Copp's  Hill  and  jump  sixteen 
sleds  at  the  bounce  ?  Did  they  not  sharpen  skates  with  enthusi- 
asm and  go  off  to  the  mill-dam  alone  ? 

"  By  night  when  the  tocsin  rang  and  the  little  boy  covered 
his  head  and  shivered  under  the  sheets,  did  not  Henry  and 
Charles  rush  down  two  flights  of  stairs  and  out  the  door,  yelling 
fire  ?  And  they  were  at  school  fitting  for  college  at  Mt.  Pleasant. 
Their  hair-trunk  was  two  days  a-packing,  and  the  stage  took 
them   away   before  daylight,   leaving  the  house   so   quiet   and  so 


A'/r.  HENRY  WARD  BEEC/fER,  or 

empty,  sixteen  and  five-  -oh  !  how  magnificent  the  boy  of  six- 
teen to  the  little  DO]  of  five.      1  speak  of  brother  Henry. 

"But  at  prayers,  family  prayers,  Henry  and  Charles  could 
sing,  and  so  could  the  little  bow  A  frail,  blue-eyed,  willowy 
mother  sat  in  the  rocking-chair.  Father  would  read — the  little 
boy  knew  not  what,  lint  for  the  singing  from  village  hymns 
Henry  sometimes  fluted,  making  a  queer  mouth;  and  then,  all 
kneeling,  it  was  ever  asked  by  father,  'Overturn  and  overturn, 
till  He  whose  right  it  is  shall  come  and  reign,  King  of  nations  as 
King  of  saints.' 

"  Prayers  over,  Aunt  Esther  and  the  little  boy,  he  standing  in 
a  chair,  washed  the  dishes,  and  Henry  and  Charles  stormed  out 
to  the  Latin  School.  But  they  went  to  Mount  Pleasant,  and  Mr. 
Colton  was  the  teacher.  Twice  a  year  they  came  home,  at 
Thanksgiving  and  the  summer  vacation.  The  expected  stage 
drove  up,  and  the  little  boy,  in  agony  of  delight  that  could  not  be 
endured,  hid  himself  on  a  trundle-bed  under  mother's  and  braid- 
ed bed-cords  till,  searched  out,  he  was  tossed  above  the  clouds 
by  great,  strong  brother  Henry. 

"  At  morning  prayers,  '  Thou  hast  brought  back  our  boys  in 
health,'  the  little  boy  heard  that  and  the  '  overturn  and  over- 
turn '  part  ;  and  that  little  boy,  now  your  pastor,  bears  witness  in 
your  ears  that  the  boys  were  kept,  and  that  since  those  days 
there  have  been  overturnings  not  a  few.  And  further  he  tells 
you  that  those  family  prayers  propagated  the  ancestral  religion 
in  brother  Henry,  though  they  have  failed  to  hand  down  the  an- 
cestral theology. 

"  The  boys  must  go  to  college,  and  leave  the  little  boy  to  go 
to  infant  school,  to  Miss  Bull,  and  learn  to  tell  the  hour  on  a  card 
clock,  and  add,  subtract,  and  count  with  an  abacus.  Henry  in 
the  world  of  departed  spirits,  Amherst  ;  Charles  at  Bowdoin. 
Every  morning  father  praying  for  our  boys  at  college  :  '  May 
they  become  good  ministers  of  our  Lord  Jesus   Christ !  ' 

" .  .  .  Edward  was  a  man,  like  father.  But  Henry  and 
Charles  were  heroes,  doing  things.  How  they  could  jump  ! 
How  they  whirled  around  the  horizontal  bar  !  How  Charles 
could  flog  a  top!  And  Henry  had  peanuts  and  red  peppermints. 
Shall  I  ever  be  big  and  do  things,  and  run  to  fires,  and  go  way 
down  Milk  Street? 

"  Yes,   one  vacation   brother  Henry  took  the  little   boy  down 


Q2 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


on  Milk  Street,  past  two  Unitarian  churches  safely,  past  Tremont 
Theatre,  past  an  open  stable-door  where  lay  a  red  cow  with  mon- 
strous horns,  chewing  her  big  mouth  with  nothing  in  it,  and 
looking,  oh!  so  strong  and  hungry  at  that  little  boy.  But  Henry 
wasn't  scared.  He  was  whistling.  '  Come  along,  Tom,'  he  said, 
'  that's  only  a  cow.' 

"  Henry  and  Charles  at  college  ;  father  and  eight  of  us  stag- 
ing from  Boston  to  Cincinnati,  leaving  my  heroes.  Amherst  and 
Bowdoin  loom  large  in  my  fancy  still.  My  heroes  were  to  stay 
and  grow  !  Tidings  once  a  month  :  Charles  has  a  fiddle,  Henry 
has  a  six-keyed  flute;  Charles,  and  something  about  circles  and 
geometry;  Henry,  and  phrenology  and  temperance  lectures." 

Such  was  his  life  in  Boston,  undoubtedly  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent beneficial,  and,  by  reason  of  the  activity  of  the  streets  of 
the  city  and  the  bustle  of  the  wharves,  attractive.  But  coming 
at  the  turbulent  period  of  his  own  development,  when  the 
rough  elements  of  its  thoroughfares  were  more  congenial  to 
him  than  the  influences  of  its  churches,  libraries,  or  homes,  it 
was  far  from  being  satisfactory.  Its  liberty  was  not  altogether 
safe,  nor  were  its  restrictions  healthful  ;  and  he  says  :  "  I  cannot 
see  how,  if  I  had  remained  much  longer  in  Boston,  I  could 
have  escaped  ruin."  We  see  him,  therefore,  start  off  on  the 
lumbering  stage-coach,  in  the  early  autumn  morning  before 
daylight,  for  Amherst,  with  a  sense  of  relief  and  hearty  thank- 
fulness that  he  is  escaped  as  a  bird  from  the  snare  of  the  fowler. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

School-Life  at  Mount  Pleasant — Mathematics — Elocution — Testimony  of 
Classmates— Religious  Experiences — Troubles — A  Romantic  Friend- 
ship— Another  Kind — Letter  of  Reminiscence — A  Royal  School-boy. 

IT  was  in  1S27,  and  Henry  was  fourteen  years  old,  when  he 
entered  the  Mount  Pleasant  Institute.     "He  was  admitted  to 

the  institution  at  a  price  about  half  the  usual  charge,  for 
one  hundred  dollars  per  year."  "  His  appearance  was  robust  and 
healthy,  rather  inclined  to  fulness  of  form,  with  a  slight  pink 
tinge  on  his  cheeks  and  a  frequent  smile  upon  his  face.  In  his 
manners  and  communications  he  was  quiet,  orderly,  and  respect- 
ful. He  was  a  good-looking  youth."  This  is  the  testimony  of 
one  of  his  teachers,  Mr.  George  Montague. 

"  I  think  he  must  have  been  fond  of  children,  for  he  was  al- 
ways ready  for  a  frolic  with  me.  I  don't  remember  how  he  spoke, 
except  that  he  talked  a  good  deal  and  was  full  of  life  and  fun." 
So  says  a  friend,  in  whose  home  he  boarded,  in  a  letter  written 
during  the  past  year. 

No  place  could  have  been  better  fitted  to  the  condition  of  the 
boy,  as  he  then  was,  than  the  one  chosen.  He  was  tired  of  the 
city  with  its  brick  walls,  stone  pavements,  and  artificial  restric- 
tions, and  longed  for  the  freedom  and  the  freshness  of  the  coun- 
try. Amherst  at  that  time  was  only  a  small  village,  fighting  back 
with  indifferent  success  the  country  that  pressed  in  upon  it  from 
every  side,  and  offering  this  city-sick  lad,  almost  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  the  school,  the  same  kind  of  fields  and  forests  that 
were  around  him  at  Litchfield,  and  spreading  out  for  him  a  land- 
scape equal  in  beauty  to  that  of  his  childhood  home. 

Besides,  he  has  an  object  in  view  that  stirs  his  blood.  He  is 
to  fit  himself  for  the  navy  ;  his  father  has  promised  his  influence 
to  get  him  an  appointment,  if  wanted,  and  Admiral  Nelson  and 
all  other  brave  admirals  and  commodores  are  his  models.  For 
the  first  time  in  his  life  he  takes  hold  of  study  with  enthusiasm. 

The    institution   was    very  popular    in    its    day,  and    a   great 


94  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

advance  upon  the  old  academy.  It  was  semi-military  in  its 
methods,  and  in  its  government  there  was  great  thoroughness 
without  severity.  Its  teachers  possessed  superior  qualifications, 
and  all  were  men  of  great  kindness  as  well  as  of  marked  abilitv. 
Among  them  were  two  men  who  especially  had  great  influence 
in  directing  his  energies  and  preparing  him  not  only  for  Am- 
herst College  but  for  the  greater  work  beyond,  and  who  were 
ever  remembered  by  him  with  the  deepest  gratitude. 

The  first  of  these  was  W.  P.  Fitzgerald,  the  teacher  of  mathe- 
matics at  Mount  Pleasant  school  : 

"  He  taught  me  to  conquer  in  studying.  There  is  a  very  hour 
in  which  a  young  nature,  tugging,  discouraged,  and  weary  with 
books,  rises  with  the  consciousness  of  victorious  power  into  mas- 
terhood.  For  ever  after  he  knows  that  he  can  learn  anything  if 
he  pleases.     It  is  a  distinct  intellectual  'conversion.' 

"  I  first  went  to  the  blackboard,  uncertain,  soft,  full  of  whim- 
pering. '  That  lesson  must  be  learned,'  he  said,  in  a  very 
quiet  tone,  but  with  a  terrible  intensity  and  with  the  certainty  of 
Fate.  All  explanations  and  excuses  he  trod  under  foot  with 
utter  scornf ulness.  '  I  want  that  problem.  I  don't  want  any  rea- 
sons why  I  don't  get  it.' 

11 '  I  did  study  it  two  hours!' 

" '  That's  nothing  to  me  ;  I  want  the  lesson.  You  need  not 
study  it  at  all,  or  you  may  study  it  ten  hours  -just  to  suit  your- 
self.    I  want  the  lesson.     Underwood,  go  to  the  blackboard  ! ' 

"  '  Oh  !  yes,  but  Underwood  got  somebody  to  show  him  his 
lesson.' 

"'What  do  I  care  how  you  get  it?  That's  your  business. 
But  you  must  have  it.' 

"  It  was  tough  for  a  green  boy,  but  it  seasoned  him.  In  less 
than  a  month  I  had  the  most  intense  sense  of  intellectual  inde- 
pendence and  courage  to  defend  ray  recitations. 

"  In  the  midst  of  a  lesson  his  cold  and  calm  voice  would  fall 
upon  me  in  the  midst  of  a  demonstration — 'No.1*  I  hesitated, 
stopped,  and  then  went  back  to  the  beginning ;  and,  on  reaching 
the  same  spot  again,  *  No ! '  uttered  with  the  tone  of  perfect 
conviction,  barred  my  progress.  '  The  next  ! '  and  I  sat  down  in 
red  confusion.  He  too  was  stopped  with  '  No  ! '  but  went  right 
on,  finished,  and,  as  he  sat  down,  was  rewarded  with,  '  Very 
well.' 


K'F.r.  HENRY  WAR1  .I.R. 

"'Why,'  whimpered  I,  '1   recited  it  just  as  he  did,  and  you 

said  No  :  ' 

"  Why  didn't  you  say  Yes,  and  stick  to  it  ?  It  is  not  enough 
to  know  your  lesson.  You  must  know  that  you  know  it.  You 
have  learned  nothing  till  you  are  sure.  If  all  the  world  says  No, 
your  business  is  to  say  Yes  and  to  prove  it  / '  " 

The  other  helper  of  this  period  was  John  E.  Lovell. 

In  a  column  of  the  Christian  Union  of  July  14,  1880,  de- 
voted  to  "Inquiring  Friends,"  appeared  this  question  with  the  ac- 
companying answer  : 

"  We  heard  Mr.  Beecher  lecture  recently  in  Boston  and  found 
the  lecture  a  grand  lesson  in  elocution.  If  Mr.  Beecher  would 
give  through  the  column  of  'Inquiring  Friends'  the  methods  of 
instruction  and  practice  pursued  by  him,  it  would  be  very  thank- 
fully received  by  a  subscriber  and  student.  E.  D.  M.  - 

"  I  had  from  childhood  a  thickness  of  speech  arising  from  a 
large  palate,  so  that  when  a  boy  I  used  to  be  laughed  at  for  talk- 
ing as  if  I  had  pudding  in  my  mouth.  When  I  went  to  Amherst 
I  was  fortunate  in  passing  into  the  hands  of  John  Lovell,  a 
teacher  of  elocution,  and  a  better  teacher  for  my  purpose  I  can- 
not conceive.  His  system  consisted  in  drill,  or  the  thorough 
practice  of  inflexions  by  the  voice,  of  gesture,  posture,  and  articu- 
lation. Sometimes  I  was  a  whole  hour  practising  my  voice  on  a 
word — like  'justice.'  I  would  have  to  take  a  posture,  frequently 
at  a  mark  chalked  on  the  floor.  Then  we  would  go  through  all 
the  gestures,  exercising  each  movement  of  the  arm  and  the 
throwing  open  the  hand.  All  gestures  except  those  of  precision 
go  in  curves,  the  arm  rising  from  the  side,  coming  to  the  front, 
turning  to  the  left  or  right.  I  was  drilled  as  to  how  far  the  arm 
should  come  forward,  where  it  should  start  from,  how  far  go 
back,  and  under  what  circumstances  these  movements  should  be 
made.  It  was  drill,  drill,  drill,  until  the  motions  almost  became 
a  second  nature.  Now  I  never  know  what  movements  I  shall 
make.  My  gestures  are  natural,  because  this  drill  made  them 
natural  to  me.  The  only  method  of  acquiring  an  effective  edu- 
cation is  by  practice,  of  not  less  than  an  hour  a  day,  until  the 
student  has  his  voice  and  himself  thoroughly  subdued  and  trained 
to  right  expression.  H.  W.  B." 

Mr.  Montague  says  :  "  Mr.  Beecher  submitted  to  Mr.  Lovell's 


g6  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

drilling  and  training  with  a  patience  which  proved  his  interest  in 
the  study  to  be  great.  The  piece  which  was  to  be  spoken  was 
committed  to  memory  from  Mr.  Lovell's  mouth,  the  pupil  stand- 
ing on  the  stage  before  him,  and  every  sentence  and  word,  ac- 
cent and  pronunciation,  position  and  movement  of  the  body, 
glance  of  the  eye  and  tone  of  voice,  all  were  subjects  of  study 
and  criticism.  And  day  after  day,  often  for  several  weeks  in 
continuance,  Mr.  Beecher  submitted  to  this  drilling  upon  the 
same  piece,  until  his  teacher  pronounced  him  perfect." 

His  dramatic  power  was  displayed  and  noted  at  this  early 
period.  Dr.  Thomas  Field,  a  classmate  in  the  school,  says  : 
"  One  incident  occurred  during  our  residence  in  Mount  Pleasant 
which  left  an  abiding  impression  on  my  mind.  At  the  exhibition 
at  the  close  of  the  year,  either  1828  or  1829,  the  drama  of  'Wil- 
liam Tell'  was  performed  by  some  of  the  students,  and  your 
father  took  the  part  of  the  tyrant  Gessler.  Although  sixty  years 
have  passed,  I  think  now,  as  I  thought  then,  that  it  was  the  most 
impressive  performance  I  ever  witnessed." 

His  love  of  flowers  was  so  marked  as  to  attract  the  attention 
of  a  gardener  in  the  village,  who  gave  him  the  use  of  a  plot  of 
ground  where  he  might  sow  and  plant  what  he  chose  ;  and  here 
the  boy  spent  many  a  play-hour  in  digging,  sowing,  and  weed- 
ing, that  he  might  enjoy  the  beauty  which  his  own  hand  had  been 
instrumental  in  producing.  "In  this  garden-corner  the  chaplain 
of  Mount  Pleasant  Institute  found  him  one  day  lost  in  admiration 
for  the  opening  buds  and  beautiful  blossoms  that  were  unfolding 
under  his  culture,  and  could  not  forbear  to  improve  the  oppor- 
tunity and  administer  a  gentle  rebuke  to  the  enthusiastic  youth. 
1  Ah  !  Henry,'  he  said,  'these  things  are  pretty,  very  pretty,  but, 
my  boy,  do  you  think  that  such  things  are  worthy  to  occupy  the 
attention  of  a  man  who  has  an  immortal  soul  ?'"  The  boy  was 
abashed  before  so  much  dignity,  and,  we  may  add,  stupidity,  and 
assuming  the  stolid  look  that  his  bashfulness  had  made  natural, 
at  this  time,  under  such  circumstances,  went  on  with  his  work 
among  the  flowers;  but  he  said  afterwards  that  he  wanted  to  tell 
him  that  "  since  Almighty  God  had  taken  time  to  make  these 
trifles,  it  did  not  seem  amiss  for  him  to  take  time  to  look  at 
them."  So,  now  a  youth,  he  is  walking  as  when  a  child  among 
flowers,  and  the  leader  of  the  boys  in  their  most  venturesome 
sports    is  kneeling  in  adoring  silence  over  beds  of  pansies  and 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH  EK.  9  J 

asters,  and    feeding  the  hunger  of   his  soul   with   the  beauty  61 
their  forms  and  (  olors. 

In  a  letter  dated  December  24,  1828,  addressed  to  his  sister 
Harriet — the  first  that  has  come  to  our  hands  from  Mount 
Pleasant — he  gives  some  account  of  his  manner  of  life  at  school, 
and  various  experiences  : 

M  Dear  Sister  : 

"...  I  have  to  rise  in  the  morning  at  half-past  five  o'clock, 
and  after  various  little  duties,  such  as  fixing  of  room,  washing, 
etc.,  which  occupies  about  an  hour,  we  proceed  to  breakfast, 
from  thence  to  chapel,  after  which  we  have  about  ten  minutes 
to  prepare  for  school.  Then  we  attend  school  from  eight  to 
twelve.  An  hour  at  noon  is  allowed  for  diversions  of  various 
sorts.  Then  dinner.  After  that  school  from  half-past  one  to 
half-past  four.  At  night  we  have  about  an  hour  and  a  half  ; 
then  tea.  After  tea  we  have  about  ten  minutes  ;  then  we  are 
called  to  our  rooms  till  nine. 

"  Now  I  will  tell  you  how  I  occupy  my  spare  time — in  read- 
ing, writing,  and  playing  the  flute.  We  are  forming  a  band  here. 
I  shall  play  either  the  flute  or  hautboy.  I  enjoy  myself  pretty 
well.  In  Latin  I  am  studying  Sallust.  As  to  ease,  all  I  have  to 
do  is  to  study  straight  ahead.  It  comes  pretty  easy.  My  Greek 
is  rather  hard.  I  am  as  yet  studying  the  grammar  and  Jacob's 
Greek  Reader.  In  elocution  we  read  and  speak  alternately 
every  other  day. 

"...  I  find  it  hard  to  keep  as  a  Christian  ought  to.  To  be 
sure,  I  find  delight  in  prayer,  but  I  cannot  find  time  to  be  alone 
sufficiently.  We  have  in  our  room  only  two,  one  besides  myself, 
but  he  is  most  of  my  play-hours  practising  on  some  instrument 
or  other.  I  have  some  time,  to  be  sure,  but  it  is  very  irregular, 
and  I  never  know  when  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  for  private 
devotions  until  the  time  comes.  I  do  not  like  to  read  the  Bible 
as  well  as  to  pray,  but  I  suppose  it  is  the  same  as  it  is  with  a 
lover,  who  loves  to  talk  with  his  mistress  in  person  better  than 
to  write  when  she  is  afar  off.  .  .  . 

"  Your  affectionate  brother, 

"Henry." 

His  religious  experience,  of  which  we  have  heard  nothing 
since  he  left  Litchfield,  the  life  in  Boston  apparently  not  being 


98  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

very  favorable  to  it,  again   attracts  our  attention  at  this  point. 
He  says  : 

"  When  I  was  fourteen  years  of  age  I  left  Boston  and  went  to 
Mount  Pleasant.  There  broke  out  while  I  was  there  one  of 
those  infectious  religious  revivals  which  have  no  basis  of  judi- 
cious instruction,  but  spring  from  inexperienced  zeal.  It  resulted 
in  many  mushroom  hopes,  and  I  had  one  of  them  ;  but  I  do  not 
know  how  or  why  I  was  converted.  I  only  know  I  was  in  a  sort 
of  day-dream,  in  which  I  hoped  I  had  given  myself  to  Christ. 

"  I  wrote  to  father  expressing  this  hope  ;  he  was  overjoyed, 
and  sent  me  a  long,  kind  letter  on  the  subject.  But  in  the  course 
of  three  or  four  weeks  I  was  nearly  over  it  ;  and  I  never  shall 
forget  how  I  felt,  not  long  afterward,  when  a  letter  from  father 
was  handed  me  in  which  he  said  I  must  anticipate  my  vacation  a 
week  or  two  and  come  home  and  join  the  Church  on  the  next 
Communion  Sabbath.  The  serious  feelings  I  had  were  well-nigh 
gone,  and  I  was  beginning  to  feel  quite  jolly  again,  and  I  did  not 
know  what  to  do.  I  went  home,  however,  and  let  them  take  me 
into  the  Church.  A  kind  of  pride  and  shamefacedness  kept  me 
from  saying  I  did  not  think  I  was  a  Christian,  and  so  I  was  made 
a  church-member." 

In  an  editorial  in  the  Indepe7idoit,  written  in  1862,  upon  the 
disbanding  of  this  old  church,  the  Bowdoin  Street — originally 
Hanover  Street — Church,  Boston,  he  describes  this  event  : 

"  If  somebody  will  look  in  the  old  records  of  Hanover  Street 
church  about  1829  they  will  find  a  name  there  of  a  boy  about  fif- 
teen years  old  who  was  brought  into  the  Church  on  a  sympathetic 
wave,  and  who  well  remembers  how  cold  and  almost  paralyzed 
he  felt  while  the  committee  questioned  him  about  his  'hope'  and 
1  evidences,'  which,  upon  review,  amounted  to  this  :  that  the  son 
of  such  a  father  ought  to  be  a  good  and  pious  boy.  Being  ten- 
der-hearted and  quick  to  respond  to  moral  sympathy,  he  had 
been  caught  and  inflamed  in  a  school  excitement,  but  was  just 
getting  over  it  when  summoned  to  Boston  to  join  the  church  ! 
On  the  morning  of  the  day  he  went  to  church  without  seeing  any- 
thing he  looked  at.  He  heard  his  name  called  from  the  pulpit 
among  many  others,  and  trembled  ;  rose  up  with  every  emotion 
petrified  ;  counted  the  spots  on  the  carpet  ;  looked  piteously  up 
at  the  cornice  ;  heard  the  fans  creak  in  the  pews  near  him  ;  felt 
thankful  to  a  fly  that  lit  on  his   face,  as  if  something  familiar  at 


V.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER, 


99 


last  had  come  to  break  aa  awful  trance  ;  heard  faintly  a  reading 

of  the  Articles  of  Faith  ;  wondered  whether  he  should  be  Btru<  k 

dead  for  not  feeling  more — whether  he  should  540  to  hell  tor 
touching  the  bread  and  wine,  that  he  did  not  dare  to  take  nor  to 
refuse  ;  spent  the  morning  service  uncertain  whether  dreaming, 
or  out  of  the  body,  or  in  a  trance;  and  at  last  walked  home  cry- 
ing, and  wishing  he  knew  what,  now  that  he  was  a  Christian,  he 
should  do,  and  how  he  was  to  do  it.  Ah  !  well,  there  is  a  world 
of  things  in  children's  minds  that  grown-up  people  do  not  ima- 
gine, though  they  too  once  were  young." 

Unsatisfactory  in  many  respects  as  was  his  religious  experi- 
ence, it  seems  to  have  been  powerful  enough  to  change  his  whole 
ideal  of  life.  We  hear  no  more  of  his  becoming  if  sailor.  He 
appears  to  have  yielded  to  the  inevitable,  and  henceforth  studies 
with  the  ministry  in  view. 

That  there  was  awakened  in  him  a  strong  sense  of  duty  and  a 
deep  earnestness  of  purpose  appears  from  a  letter  written  from 
the  school  to  his  brother  Edward  : 

"Mount  Pleasant,  July  n,  1829. 
"  Dear  Brother  : 

"  I  have  been  expecting  a  letter  from  you  all  the  time  ;  but  I 
suppose  you  have  too  much  to  do  to  write  letters.  Mr.  Newton 
has  set  up  a  Bible-class  on  Sabbath  morning  for  the  larger  boys, 
and  a  Sabbath-school  on  Sabbath  afternoon  for  the  smaller  boys. 
The  Bible-classes  are  very  interesting  indeed.  He  first  began  with 
the  73d  Psalm  ;  then  he  commenced  the  New  Testament  and  is 
going  through  it  in  course.  The  boys  generally  are  very  much 
pleased  with  the  lecture. 

"  On  Wednesday  evenings  he  is  a-going  to  deliver  doctrinal 
sermons.  All  with  whom  I  have  conversed  on  the  subject  are 
very  desirous  that  he  should  commence  them. 

"  There  has  been  a  boy  named  Forsyth  who  has  since  the  re- 
vival been  very  active  in  the  cause  of  religion,  and  promised  to  be 
a  man  of  great  usefulness  ;  he  is  a  boy  of  great  influence,  and  he 
has  gone  back.  He  does  not  oppose  religion,  but  wishes  that  he 
had  it.  His  going  back  has  caused  a  great  deal  of  sorrow  here 
among  the  boys  who  profess  to  be  pious. 

"  I  room  with  Homes  at  present ;  he  is,  I  think,  very  amiable 
and  pious.  We  have  prayers  together  every  evening.  Then  he 
has  an  hour  in  the  morning  and  I  an  hour  in  the  evening  for  pri- 


IOO  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

vate  devotions.  I  find  that  if  I  neglect  prayer  even  o?ice  that  I 
do  not  desire  to  pray  again  as  much  as  I  did  before,  and  the 
more  I  pray  the  more  I  love  to  do  it. 

"  At  present  I  am  comparing  the  Evangelists  together,  and 
looking  up  the  passages  in  the  Old  which  are  referred  to  in  the 
New  Testament. 

"  Charles  and  I  correspond  regularly.  In  order  to  make  it 
profitable  as  well  as  interesting,  we  have  in  every  letter  some 
difficult  passage  for  one  another  to  explain.  I  like  the  plan  very 
much. 

"  Our  examination  is  over,  and  exhibition  also.  I  send  you 
one  of  our  papers  (published  at  the  institution),  which  has  a 
scheme  of  the  exhibition.  I  got  through  my  examinations  very 
well.  I  hope  that  you  will  find  time  to  answer  this  soon.  Give 
my  best  love  to  any  of  the  family  who  may  be  in  Boston,  and 
Aunt  Homes's  family. 

"Your  affec.  brother, 

"H.  W.  Beecher." 

In  another  one  to  the  same,  dated  August,  1829,  he  says  : 

"  My  dear  Brother  : 

"I  received  your  letter  Sabbath  eve.  I  expect  father  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  me  about  the  same  time  that  you  did  this 
one,  in  which  I  asked  him  to  explain  some  things  from  the  Bible 
to  me.  .  .  .  While  I  think  of  it,  Mr.  Newton  explains  the  Bible 
twice  a  week  now  instead  of  once.  He  presses  the  boys  to  the 
study  of  the  Bible  and  to  prayer  more  than  any  minister  I  ever 
knew,  and  I  believe  it  to  be  not  without  effect.  I,  for  one,  have 
read  my  Bible  more  and  studied  it  more.  Father  recommended 
me  to  keep  a  little  book  in  which  I  should  put  all  my  loose 
thoughts.  I  got  one  about  a  month  since  and  have  filled  a  good 
deal  of  it  already.  My  studies  go  pretty  well.  At  present  I  am 
studying  Cicero  and  the  Greek  reader.  I  expect  next  term  (in 
about  five  weeks)  to  take  up  the  Greek  Testament,  and  Virgil, 
and  mathematics.  I  intend  to  stay  here  another  year,  almost  for 
no  other  purpose  than  to  learn  mathematics,  it  is  taught  so  well 
here  !  I  exercise  three  hours  in  a  day.  One  of  the  questions 
which  I  wished  to  ask  you  is  this,  Matthew  ii.  23  :  '  That  it 
might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the  prophets  :  He  shall 


RE  I '.  J/KXk'  V   ir.i KD  BEE(  HER.  1  O  I 

bo  called  a  Nazarenc."  Mr.  Newton  gave  one  explanation,  but 
it  did  not  satisfy  me.  I  have  beep  and  am  .still  reading  Dr. 
Gregory's  letters  on  the  evidences,  doctrines,  and  duties  of  the 
Christian  religion. 

"  I  intend  to  spend  a  part  of  my  vacation  (which  will  com- 
mence soon)  in  Hartford.  I  do  not  exactly  understand  the  dor- 
trine  of  predestination,  and  several  boys  have  been  to  me  and 
asked  me  to  explain  it  to  them,  but  I  could  never  do  it  to  my 
own  satisfaction.  I  am  paying  a  considerable  attention  to  elocu- 
tion, reading,  etc. 

"  I  wish  to  ask  you  concerning  «tfz^/-reading.  I  know  that 
to  read  much  of  any  such  thing  is  bad,  but  do  you  think  that 
it  would  injure  me  to  read  now  and  then  those  of  Scott  and 
Cooper  ?     Write  soon  as  possible. 

Your  affec.  brother, 

"Henry." 

The  following  letter,  written  near  the  close  of  his  school-life, 
affords  a  view  of  some  of  his  troubles,  and  is  given  entire  : 

"Mount  Pleasant,  Mar.   i,   1830. 
"  My  dear  Sister  : 

"  I  received  your  letter  yesterday  and  have  got  up  about  an 
hour  earlier  this  morning  in  order  that  I  may  have  time  to  an- 
swer it.  My  studies  are  growing  more  and  more  difficult,  for  I 
am  preparing  for  examination,  and  most  of  the  Greek  which  I 
am  reviewing  I  have  never  been  over,  and  I  have  to  learn  some- 
thing like  ten  pages.  Sometimes  I  feel  almost  discouraged,  and 
if  I  was  studying  for  myself  alone  I  should  have  given  up  long 
ago  ;  but  when  I  think  that  I  am  preparing  myself  to  bear  the 
commands  of  Him  who  is  my  Master,  I  can  go  with  re- 
newed strength  from  day  to  day.  A  little  time  spent  here  in 
performing  our  duty,  and  then  our  toil  and  trouble  will  be  re- 
warded with  double  and  eternal  happiness.  I  feel  just  as  you 
do  while  writing  or  thinking  of  these  things — I  feel  drawn  up 
toward  heaven,  my  home,  and  am  enabled  to  look  upon  the  earth 
as  a  place  of  pilgrimage  and  not  an  abiding  city.  Those  are 
moments  of  true  happiness,  which  the  world  knows  not  ;  but 
when  I  mix  with  the  boys  I  forget  these  things,  and  do  talk  and 
act  unworthy  of  a  disciple  of  Christ.     I  find  this  to  need  much 


102  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

watchfulness  and  prayer,  for  I  believe  that  I  take  to  light 
trifling  more  than  people  generally  do.  I  find  much  trouble  with 
pride.  I  am  afraid  every  day  that  I  shall  get  into  some  difficulty 
with  my  instructors.  I  feel  more  at  liberty  when  I  write  to  you 
than  any  other  of  my  sisters  ;  not  because  I  do  not  love  them,  but 
because  you  are  nearer  my  age.  I  notice  many  things  in  reading 
your  letter  which  struck  me  as  exactly  like  my  own  feelings.  I 
feel  when  in  meeting,  or  when  reading  any  book,  as  if  I  should 
never  cease  serving  Christ,  and  could  run  with  patience  the  race 
which  is  set  before  me.  Oh  !  then  I  have  such  thoughts,  such 
views  of  God,  and  of  His  love  and  mercy,  that  my  heart  would 
burst  through  the  corrupt  body  of  this  world  and  soar  up  with 
angels.  Oh  !  how  happy  the  thought  that  we  may  in  all  the 
ages  of  eternity  serve  and  enjoy  the  presence  of  that  God,  the  very 
glimpses  of  whom  fill  us  with  such  joy  here.  I  believe  that  if  I 
had  not  somewhere  to  lay  my  troubles,  if  Christ  had  not  invited 
all  those  that  are  '  weary  and  heavy  laden '  to  come  unto  Him, 
that  I  should  have  long  since  been  discouraged,  for  I  do  not 
think  that  my  instructors  do  right  with  me  ;  for  although  they 
know  that  my  lessons  are  double  those  of  any  other  boy,  still 
they  scold  and  ridicule  me  during  recitation,  and,  what  is  worse, 
the  principals  will  at  the  close  of  the  week,  when  the  reports  are 
read,  read  off  my  reports  and  all  the  remarks  which  are  made 
of  me  by  the  under-instructors,  and  yet  will  not  even  say  (/  can 
say  it  with  my  whole  heart)  that  I  exert  myself  all  in  my  power. 
And  the  deficiency  is  not  for  want  of  study.  Nevertheless,  if  it 
will  do  me  any  good,  if  it  will  break  down  my  proud  spirit,  if  it 
will  make  me  depend  more  upon  help  from  above  than  earthly 
help,  I  will  suffer  it — yes,  rejoice  in  it. 

u  I  write  to  you,  Harriet,  just  as  I  would  speak  with  you  ;  and 
if  it  seems  to  you  that  I  am  childish  in  feeling  thus,  I  can  say  per- 
haps I  may  be,  but  there  are  feelings  which  I  have  long  had,  and 
have  wished  to  relate  to  some  one  whom  I  loved  and  who  could 
advise  me.  I  have  said  little  or  nothing  to  any  of  my  schoolmates 
concerning  these  things.  You  inquired  something  concerning 
card-playing,  etc.  I  don't  know  what  to  think  about  it.  I  believe 
that  there  are  little  societies  which  meet  at  certain  places  for  the 
purpose  of  playing.  It  is  not  among  the  large  boys  only,  but 
among  those  of  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age,  and  most  all  the  boys 
say  '  they  would  not  play,  because  it  is  forbidden  by  Mr.  Colton  ; 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER.  103 

hut  they  don't  think  there  is  any  harm  in  it  any  more  than  there 
fs  in  playing  afess.1     Mr.  Colton  knows  that  the  boys  play,  and 

all  that  he  has  found  out  he  lias  punished  in  some  way  or  other  ; 
hut  there  are  many  that  he  has  not  found  who  still  continue  to 
play  in  secret  places,  and  it  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  little 
boys  of  eight  or  nine  years  old  swearing  most  shockingly. 

"  The  hell  is  ringing  and  I  must  begin  my  studies  now.      Write 
soon.  Your  most  affectionate  brother, 

"Henry. 

"  P.  S.  Will  you  send  me  a  few  questions  that  will  be  good 
for  a  debating  society  ?  We  wish  to  get  the  best  one  we  can  for 
a  public  debate." 

Occasionally  in  some  moment  of  frolicsome  reminiscence  he 
would  tell  one  of  his  grandchildren  of  another  kind  of  experience 
that  belonged  to  these  days.  Bashful  as  he  was  and  retiring  by 
nature,  he  was  not  by  any  means  proof  against  the  tender  passion 
— in  fact,  such  a  nature  as  his  was  just  the  one  that  its  arrows 
would  reach  the  earliest,  and  into  which  they  would  strike  deepest. 

She  was  the  sister  of  a  schoolmate,  and  her  name  was  Nancy. 
All  this  vacation  he  had  developed  great  fondness  for  this  school 
friend  ;  was  often  at  his  house.  "  And  there,"  he  said,  "  I  would 
lean  against  the  window  and  watch  Nancy  sew,  she  had  such  lit- 
tle pink  fingers — how  I  wanted  to  take  hold  of  them  !  And  then 
once  in  a  while  she  would  just  glance  up,  and  I  would  be  covered 
with  hot  and  awkward  confusion." 

On  one  evening  in  particular  he  had  spruced  up  his  dress  and 
screwed  up  his  courage  preparatory  to  making  an  evening  call, 
when,  as  the  family  sat  around  the  fire,  "  Lyman,"  said  the  mo- 
ther, without  looking  up  from  her  lace  knitting,  "  Mount  Pleasant 
is  an  excellent  school.  Henry  is  improving  very  much.  He  has 
grown  tidy,  blacks  his  boots  and  brushes  his  hair,  and  begins  to 
pay  a  proper  attention  to  his  clothes." 

"  At  this  point,"  says  Mr.  Beecher,  in  telling  the  story, 
"  Charles  gave  an  explosive  giggle  and  punched  me  slyly.  Fa- 
ther lowered  his  newspaper  ;  glancing  over  his  glasses  in  our  di- 
rection, seeing  me  covered  with  confusion  and  Charles  full  of 
suppressed  laughter,  said  dryly  : 

" '  Oh  !  it  is  the  school,  is  it  ?  Humph  !  I  guess  the  cause  is 
nearer  home.  '  " 

"  How  did  it  turn  out,  grandpa  ?" 


1 04  BIOGRAPH  V  OF 

"  Oh  !  she  was  older  than  I,  and  married  another  fellow  soon 
after.     A  short  time  ago,  after  a  lecture  in  Boston,  a  little  old 

lady  introduced  herself  to  me  as  '  Nancy .'     But  the  charm 

was    gone.     I   shook   the  once  tempting  hand  and  felt  neither 
awkward  nor  hot." 

To  some  of  his  letters  of  this  school-boy  era  he  signs  the 
initials  H.  C.  B.  instead  of  H.  W.  B.  The  adoption  of  this 
letter  C  came  about  from  that  enthusiasm  of  friendship  which 
was  always  one  of  his  marked  characteristics.  The  following  is 
the  history  of  the  matter  : 

On  the  back  of  a  sheet  of  letter-paper  which  we  have  before 
us,  folded  as  if  for  filing,  is  written  : 

"  Henry  W.  Beecher 
& 

CONSTANTINE    F.    NEWELL, 

Mount  Pleasant  Collegiate  Institution, 
Amherst,  Mass." 
Opening  it  we  read  : 

"  We  do,  in  the  presence  of  God  and  his  holy  angels,  by  our 
signatures,  mutually  pledge  ourselves  to  be  and  perform  all  things 
subjoined  : 

"(1)  We  do  pledge  ourselves  to  be  real,  lawful,  and  everlast- 
ing brothers  ;  and  that  we  will  perform  toward  each  other  all  the 
duties  of  brothers,  whether  present  or  absent,  in  health  or  in 
sickness,  in  wealth  or  in  poverty,  in  prosperity  or  adversity  ;  and 
that  we  will  love  and  watch  over  one  another,  seeking  by  all 
means  in  our  power  to  aid  and  make  each  other  happy. 

"  H.  C.  Beecher, 

"CONSTANTINE    F.    XEWELL. 

"(2)  If  parted  hereafter  we  pledge  ourselves  to  write  to  one 
another  once  in  two  months,  provided  we  are  both  in  the  United 
States.  But  if  either  shall  remove  or  reside  in  any  foreign  land, 
we  will  write  four  times  each  year,  that  is,  once  in  three  months, 
unless  we  shall  alter  the  arrangement. 

"H.  C.  Beecher, 

"CONSTANTINE    F.   NEWELL. 

11  (3)  If  we  hear  one  another's  character  evil  spoken  of,  We 
pledge  ourselves  fearlessly  to  defend  it  and  shield  it  from  re- 
proach. "  H.  C.  Beecher, 

"CONSTANTINE  F.   NEW'ELL. 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEE  CHER.  I  05 

"(4)  We  wili  pass  over  the  little  faults  which  we  may  observe 

IB    each    other,    nor   will    we   reproach    one   another   of   any  little 
misstep.  [Signatures  omitted  here. J 

"(5)  Our  sorrows  and  joys  shall  be  common,  so  that  we  may 
rejoice  in  mutual  prosperity  and  assist  one  another  in  adversity. 

"  II.  W.  Bl  BCH1  R, 
"Constantine  F.   Ni.wi.i  1  . 

"And  now  we  consider  ourselves  as  brothers,  and  we  are 
bound  together  by  ties  and  obligations  as  strong  as  can  be  placed 
upon  us.  But  we  rather  rejoice  in  the  relationship,  as  now 
it  has  converted  our  former  friendship  into  brotherly  love.  As 
formerly  we  were  connected  by  nothing  save  voluntary  friend- 
ship, which  could  be  broken  off,  so  now  we  are  connected  by  a 
love  which  cannot  be  broken  ;  and  we  have  pledged  ourselves  be- 
fore God  and  his  angels  to  be  as  written  above.  But  we  do  not 
sorrow  on  this  account — far  from  it,  we  greatly  rejoice — for  we 
have  not  done  this  thoughtlessly,  but  being  convinced  by  thrft 
years'  friendship  that  we  mutually  love  one  another  ;  and  from 
this  time  are  now  assumed  new  duties  and  obligations.  And 
to  all  the  foregoing  we  cheerfully  and  voluntarily  subscribe  our 
names.  And  now  may  God  bless  us  in  this  our  covenant  and 
in  all  our  future  ways,  and  receive  us  both  at  last  in  heaven. 

"  H.  C.  Beecher, 
"  Const antine  F.  Newell. 
"Amherst,  April,  1832." 

The  explanation  of  this  singular  paper  is  found  in  a  very 
romantic  history  and  friendship. 

Constantine  Fontellachi  was  a  Greek  from  the  island  of  Scio, 
in  the  Grecian  Archipelago.  His  parents  were  killed  by  the 
Turks  in  that  terrible  massacre  of  the  Sciotese  which  horrified 
the  world  in  1822.  Constantine,  who  was  six  or  eight  years  old, 
escaped  and  hid  among  the  rocks  upon  the  coast  until  he  was 
discovered  and  taken  off  by  a  coasting  vessel.  He  made  his 
way  to  the  New  World  and  was  adopted  by  Mrs.  Newell,  of 
Amherst,  as  her  own,  and  sent  to  the  Mount  Pleasant  school. 
His  romantic  but  sorrowful  history,  his  great  beauty  and  grace 
of  person,  captivated  Henry  Ward  ;  as  he  said  :  "  He  was  the 
most    beautiful    thing  I  had    ever  seen.     He  was  like  a  young 


I06  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Greek  god.  When  we  boys  used  to  go  swimming  together  I 
would  climb  out  on  the  bank  to  watch  Constantine  swim,  he 
was  so  powerful,  so  beautiful." 

The  brightness  of  his  intellect  and  his  kindliness  of  heart 
were  equal  to  the  beauty  of  his  person,  and  the  admiration 
excited  deepened  into  the  warmest  and  most  sincere  affection. 
It  was  like  that  between  David  and  Jonathan,  and  appears  to 
have  been  mutual. 

When  they  separated  at  the  close  of  their  school-days,  one 
to  enter  college  and  the  other  to  go  into  business  in  Boston,  the 
above  covenant  was  written,  admirable  only  as  it  illustrates  what 
has  been  called  Mr.  Beecher's  genius  for  friendship.  Return- 
ing to  his  native  land  in  1842,  Constantine  died  very  suddenly 
of  cholera.  But  even  then  the  old  friendship  was  not  forgotten. 
Years  after  Mr.  Beecher  gave  to  one  of  his  sons  "  Constantine  " 
as  a  middle  name,  that  he  might  have  in  his  family  one  who 
should  always  remind  him  of  the  friend  so  greatly  beloved. 

We  close  this  chapter  with  a  letter  of  reminiscence  of  Mount 
Pleasant  days. 

"Amherst,  Mass.,  May  17,  1849. 
lk  My  dear  Eunice  and  very  dear  Wife  : 

"  Here  am  I  in  this  memorable  place.  It  is  now  fifteen  years 
since  you  received  a  letter  from  me  dated  as  is  this  one.  It  is 
twenty-three  years  since  I  first  put  my  foot  on  the  village  sod!  It 
gives  my  head  a  whirl  to  look  back  so  far,  or  to  hear  myself,  with  my 
young-looking  face  and  younger- acting  one,  talking  of  things  that 
happened  to  me  at  such  long  distances  of  time.  .  .  .  Arrived  at 
Northampton  about  four  o'clock;  took  stage  for  Amherst,  mount- 
ed on  top  for  sight-seeing.  Rode  through  the  old  town  along 
by  the  ploughed  fields  to  the  bridge  of  memorable  history.  All 
our  experiences  came  very  freshly  back.  I  thought  I  could  tell 
the  very  places  where  I  kissed  you  in  our  ride  home.   .  .  . 

"  After  emerging  from  this  old  town  (Hadley)  the  colleges 
shone  out  from  afar  ;  then  Mount  Pleasant  gradually,  and  one  by 
one  the  various  prominent  dwellings  in  the  village.  I  put  up  at 
the  Baltwoods'  old  tavern.  ...  I  first  went  to  the  college;  walk- 
ed up  and  down  and  around  in  the  various  entries,  in  the  grove, 
by  the  well,  in  the  chapel,  in  each  recitation-room.  Then  I 
went  to  each  of  the  rooms  which  I  occupied  in  college.     I  sought 


REV.  HENRY  IV.IK1)  BBECHER. 


107 


out  the  spots  which  bad  a  very  melancholy  interest  from  events 

in  my  morbid  religious  history.     I  then  turned  my  steps  to  Mount 

Pleasant.     1  cannot  tell  the  emotions  that  I  had  when  I  once  more 

trod  the  grass}   ascent   where  my  opening  manhood  first  fairly 

dawned.  As  1  walked  up  the  long  slope  I  almost  thought  that 
1  should  see  the  crowd  of  boys  break  forth  from  some  door.  I 
Stopped  on  the  terrace  where  for  three  years  I  mustered  with 
more  than  a  hundred  boys,  and  whence  we  marched  to  chapel,  to 
meals,  to  church,  etc.  As  I  stood  there  Constantine  seemed  to 
rise  up  to  greet  me,  as  he  never  will  greet  me  ;  Hunt,  Pomeroy, 
French,  Burt,  Thayer,  Tilghman,  Dwight,  Van  Lennep,  Fitz- 
gerald, and  scores  of  others.  The  wings  of  the  building,  the 
chapel,  the  kitchen,  etc.,  were  all  taken  away,  so  that  the  places 
w-here  most  I  roomed,  and  the  veranda  in  which  I  used  to  sit  and 
muse  and  feel  the  rise  and  swell  of  yearnings  the  meaning  of 
which  I  did  not  know,  are  all  swept  away.  Here  I  spent  the 
half-ideal  and  half-emotive,  dreamy  hours  in  which  I  used  to 
look  across  the  beautiful  Connecticut  River  valley,  and  at  the 
blue  mountains  that  hedged  it  in,  until  my  heart  swelled  and 
my  eyes  filled  with  tears  ;  why,  I  could  not  tell.  Then  I 
would  push  out  into  the  woods  and  romp  with  the  wildest  of 
them.  I  visited  the  grove,  once  beautiful,  now  meagre  and  for- 
lorn. I  went  into  the  rear  building;  each  room  brought  up  some 
forgotten  scene,  some  face  remembered  for  good  or  ill.  I  went 
to  the  room  where  I  roomed  early  in  my  course.  The  boys 
were  at  supper,  and  so  I  sat  down  and  meditated  awhile.  The 
room  in  which  I  lived  with  Fitzgerald  was  not  to  be  found, 
some  changes  in  the  interior  of  the  house  having  shut  it  out 
from  the  entry  where  I  formerly  found  it.  It  was  a  strange  mix- 
ture of  old  things  found  again  and  old  things  not  to  be  found — 
of  surprise  and  disappointment,  of  things  painful  and  of  things 
joyful.  All  my  favorites,  the  little  fellows  that  I  used  to  love  and 
cherish,  their  faces  looked  out  at  me  at  every  turn.  I  tried  to 
find  the  trees,  growing  three  from  a  root,  on  which  I  made  steps 
and  built  a  slat  house  up  among  the  branches  ;  where  I  used  to 
sit  wind-rocked  and  read  or  muse,  cry  and  laugh,  just  as  the 
fancy  took  me.  It  was  gone.  There  are  twenty-five  boys  here 
at  a  select  school.  They  were  playing  down  on  the  old  foot- 
ball ground,  and  the  voices  and  shouts,  quips  and  jokes,  were 
so  natural  that   I  could    hardly   help   plunging    down    the    hill, 


108  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER. 

catching  up  a  club,  and  going  into  the  game  of  ball  with  all  my 
old  ardor.  But  they  would  have  no  remembrances  to  meet 
mine.  I  should  not  have  been  Hank  Beecher  to  them.  .  .  . 
Good-by,  dear  wife. 

"  Truly  yours, 

"  H.  W.  B. 
"  Love  to  all  the  children,  big  and  little." 
For  the  benefit  of  all  school-boys  we  call  attention  to  some  of 
the  most  marked  features  of  this  period  in  the  life  of  H.  VV. 
Beecher,  as  they  appear  from  the  extracts  given  and  from  other 
papers  for  which  we  have  no  space.  He  was  healthy  and  robust, 
a  favorite  among  the  boys  upon  the  play-ground,  who  called  him 
"  Hank  "  Beecher.  He  was  a  leader  in  their  sports,  and  at  the 
same  time  a  champion  of  the  younger  and  weaker  boys.  He 
learned  to  master  his  work,  and  by  drill  in  school-room  and 
gymnasium  gained  control  of  his  own  powers  of  body  and  mind. 
He  kept  his  eyes  open  to  the  beauty  of  the  world  around  him, 
and  was  very  susceptible  to  the  attractions  of  fair  faces  as  well. 
He  was  open  and  manly  in  following  his  religious  convictions, 
clean-mouthed  and  pure-hearted  in  his  morals.  He  pondered 
big  matters,  and  asked  large  questions,  and  sought  out  satisfac- 
tory conclusions  for  himself  and  for  his  companions.  He  looked 
for  information  in  all  directions,  and  took  great  pains  to  store 
it  away  for  future  use.  He  read  good  books  and  a  great  many 
of  them,  and  the  novels  he  read  were  of  the  best  kind.  Withal 
he  was  a  "  hail-fellow-well-met  "  companion  and  a  most  devoted 
and  faithful  friend.  Upon  the  authority  of  every  word  of  testi- 
mony we  have  been  able  to  get  from  teachers,  classmates,  and 
old  residents  of  the  town,  we  declare  him  to  have  been  a  royal 
school-boy,  whose  manly  faithfulness,  kindly  service,  stalwart 
morality,  and  loving,  cheerful  friendliness  prepared  him  for  the 
grand  life  which  he  afterwards  lived  and  the  great  success 
which  he  achieved,  and  make  him  a  worthy  example  for  all  the 
ingenuous,  aspiring  youth  of  our  land. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Amherst  College — Private  Journal— Testimony  of  Classmates — Tutor's 
Delight — Begins  his  Ami-Slavery  Career — Spiritual  Darkness — En- 
gagement— Letters  of  his  Mother — Experiences  in  Teaching  School — 
First  Sermons — Lecturing — His  Reading — The  Record. 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  entered  Amherst  College  in 
1S30  in  a  class  of  forty  members.  Although  prepared  for 
the  Sophomore  year,  yet,  following  the  advice  of  his  father, 
he  entered  as  a  Freshman  in  the  class  of  '34.  On  the  cover  of 
a  very  commonplace-looking  copy-book,  brown  and  yellow  with 
age,  which  we  have  in  our  possession,  he  has  written  with  a 
great  many  flourishes  "  Private  Journal,"  and  then  has  added 
with  equal  emphasis,  "  Not  to  be  looked  into."  But  since  he 
afterwards  drew  his  pen  through  both  clauses,  we  have  taken 
the  liberty  not  only  to  look  but  also  to  make  extracts  from  its 
contents. 

The  pages  appear  to  have  been  written  for  the  most  part  with 
reference  to  a  correspondence  which  he  was  then  carrying  on 
with  his  brother  Charles,  referred  to  in  the  previous  chapter, 
many  of  the  questions  being  apparently  argued,  and  incidents  in 
the  diary  noted  with  him  in  view.  As  a  whole  it  forms  a  rather 
odd  mixture  of  excellent  sentiments,  religious  doctrines,  ques- 
tions and  arguments,  studied  illustrations  and  daily  incidents, 
showing  an  alert  mind,  and  one  that,  while  awake  to  observe  the 
smallest  events,  was  equally  ready  to  grapple  with  the  largest 
subjects.  A  list  of  eleven  "  Tracts  French"  on  half  the  first  page 
is  followed  on  the  blank  spaces  of  the  remainder  with  careless 
pen-scrawls  in  which  the  name  of  "  Nancy"  appears  with  attempts 
at  monograms,  showing  the  pleasant  fancies  that  possessed  his 
idle  moments. 

"Tracts  English"  heads  the  next  page,  which  is  ruled  for 
names  and  numbers ;  but  for  some  reason,  perhaps  because  the 
list  was  too  great  or  the  selection  too  difficult,  the  plan  was  never 
carried  out  and  not  a  single  entry  was  made — a  failure  so  human, 
so  common,  that  it  at  once  brings  him  into  the  sympathies  of 
thousands  who  remember  how  often  they  have  done  the  same 
thing. 

"Occasional  Thoughts"  comes  next,  printed  with  the  pen  in 


IIO  BIOGRAPHY  OF   ' 

small  caps  in  the  middle  of  a  page,  and  surrounded  with  the  usual 
artistic  pen-decorations.  On  the  opposite  page  the  thoughts  be- 
gin. The  first  is  "  Proof  of  a  Hell."  "I  prove  first  that  there 
must  be  a  hell,  and  then  it  will  appear  evident  that  there  must 
be  a  judgment."  Six  pages  of  proof-texts  and  argument  follow, 
when  we  come  to  the  next  question  :  "  Who  will  enjoy  heaven 
most?"  When  this  has  been  answered,  somewhat  more  briefly 
than  the  former,  but  apparently  to  his  own  satisfaction,  he  opens 
the  next  subject  : 

"I  wish  to  ask  you  [evidently  addressed  to  his  brother],  not 
as  a  question,  but  for  my  own  information,  what  you  think  about 
the  devil  ?  Now,  this  of  itself  is  quite  a  curious  question,  but 
what  I  wish  to  ask  in  this  particular  is,  Do  you  think  that  he  is 
at  all  under  the  divine  direction  as  we  are  ?" 

Several  pages  of  pithy  sayings  and  illustrations  follow,  of 
which  the  first  three  are  fair  samples  : 

"  God's  plans  are  like  a  hive  of  bees,  for  they  seem  to  go  on 
without  any  order  till  they  are  accomplished,  but  then  you  can 
see  a  great  plan.  Each  one  -seems  to  be  pursuing  something 
for  itself,  but,  like  the  bees,  they  at  the  end  help  to  form  one  ele- 
gant edifice." 

"  A  half-way  Christian  has  too  little  piety  to  be  happy  in  the 
next  world,  and  too  much  to  be  happy  in  this." 

"  Religion,  like  fire,  will  go  out  nearly  as  soon  if  no  fuel  is 
added  to  it  as  if  water  is  poured  on  it." 

These  are  not  quotations,  but  original,  and  show  thus  early 
a  habit  already  formed  and  a  power  already  being  educated  of 
illustrating  religious  truth  by  natural  objects  and  processes. 

The  last  half  of  the  book  is  used  as  a  diary,  written  mostly 
with  a  lead-pencil,  and  opens  with  an  account  of  his  journey  from 
Boston  to  Hartford  on  his  way  to  enter  college : 

"  I  started  from  Boston  Tuesday  eve  at  ten  o'clock,  and,  riding 
all  night,  I  arrived  in  Hartford  in  time  to  dine.  I  took  passage 
in  the  United  States  mail-stage.  It  can  hold  but  six  passengers 
inside,  it  being  made  light  in  order  to  travel  fast.  I  think  that 
we  travelled  very  fast,  for  we  went  one  hundred  miles  in  about 
fifteen  hours.  After  I  got  into  Hartford  I  started  off  to  find 
Mary.  I  went  to  her  house,  and  sent  word  that  I  wished  to  see 
Mrs.  Perkins.  After  waiting  awhile  she  came  down-stairs,  and 
did  not  know  me,  and  I  had  to  tell  her  who  I  was.     About  five 


///•:. v. v  r  ir.lA/)  BEECHER 


1 1 1 


o'clock  I  wont  to  see   Harriet  ami  Catharine.    Catharine  knew 
me,  but  Harriot  did  not.     She  could  not  think  what  to  make  of 

it  when   1  went  up  and  kisscil  her. 

"I  shall  now  begin  my  journal  : 

"Catharine  wishes  me  to  go  to  her  levee  to-night.  Don't  want 
to  much,  but  conclude  that  1  will.  Went  before  any  of  the  com- 
pany  came.      Went   into  Catharine's  room  and  sat  till  it  was    time 

go  down.  The  company  began  to  come  in,  at  first  ladies,  like 
tlocks  of  pigeons,  stringing  along  through  the  parlors  ;  soon  also 
the  gentlemen  began  to  come  in.  In  the  meantime  I  was  sitting 
by  the  side  of  the  pianoforte,  alone  and  '  un befriended,'  looking 
at  the  different  groups  of  persons  talking.  At  length  Harriet 
came  and  sat  down  by  me,  and  I  had  quite  a  talk  ;  but  she  wish- 
ing me  to  go  with  her  into  the  other  parlor,  where  a  great  many 
young  ladies  and  no  gentlemen  were  sitting,  I  refused,  whereup- 
on she  kept  pressing  me,  till  at  length,  when  she  got  up  to  go  and 
speak  with  some  one  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  I  seized  the 
opportunity,  and  very  quickly  started  for  the  door,  but  unluck- 
ily ran  against  a  gentleman,  knocked  him  half-over,  made  an 
apology,  and  got  into  the  entry.  Nor  did  my  scrape  end  here  ; 
for,  getting  my  hat,  I  perceived  that  they  saw  me  from  the  par- 
lors, and,  getting  the  other  side  of  the  entry  to  hide  myself  from 
them,  I  espied  six  or  seven  young  ladies  seated  on  the  stairs, 
watching  to  see  what  I  was  a-going  to  do.  Well,  I  went  back  to 
the  table  where  I  had  taken  my  hat,  and  from  there  whipped 
out  of  the  door.  After  I  had  got  home  I  sat  and  talked  with 
Aunt  Esther  and  Mary  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  I  went  out 
to  get  a  lamp.     The  stairs,  I  thought,  were  in  this  shape  ■ 


but  instead  of  that  they  were  in  this  way  : 


®\ 

0/ 

112  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

You  know  when  they  are  moved  round  in  that  way  there  are 
four  or  five  steps  that  meet  in  one  point,  #,  and  branch  at  b, 
so  you  cannot  step  on  them  except  at  b.  Well,  I  stepped 
down  at  a  and  fell  five  stairs  head-first — stretching  my  hands 
forward  saved  my  cranium — and  tumbled  the  rest  of  the  way,  to 
the  no  small  annoyance  of  my  shins  and  knees.  So  much  for 
running  away  from  the  levee." 

"  Catharine  and  Harriet  came  to  tea,  after  which  I  went  home 
with  them,  when  Harriet  put  her  curls  on  to  my  head  and 
her  bonnet,  Catharine  a  cloak  and  neck-handkerchief,  and  then 
called  the  young  ladies  in,  and  they  all  thought  that  I  was 
Harriet ;  and  then,  to  cap  all,  Harriet  put  on  a  man's  cloak  and 
my  hat,  and  she  looked  exactly  like  you  [Charles]  ! " 

Such  was  Henry  Ward  Beecher  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  on 
the  eve  of  entering  college — bashful,  smooth-faced,  and  chang- 
ing rapidly  in  appearance,  so  that  his  own  sisters  did  not  know 
him.  The  penmanship  shows  as  yet  an  unformed  hand,  but  in 
its  main  features  is  like  that  of  a  later  date. 

He  carelessly  leaves  out  a  word  or  a  letter  here  and  there, 
and  markedly  in  places  continues  the  old  habit  of  his  early  school 
days — poor  spelling.  Nothing  appears  that  indicates  any  talent 
superior  to  the  majority  of  young  men  on  their  way  to  college, 
unless  it  be  a  certain  enthusiasm,  straightforwardness,  and  sim- 
plicity. 

The  college  at  this  time  was  but  nine  years  old,  having  been 
established  in  1S21.  Rev.  Heman  Humphrey  was  president.  It 
was  small  and  poorly  endowed,  as  well  as  young,  but  the  chairs 
of  instruction  were  ably  filled  ;  and  since  it  had  been  founded  by 
the  orthodox  Congregationalists  as,  in  fact,  an  antidote  to  the 
Unitarianism  of  Harvard,  and  with  especial  reference  to  the 
education  of  young  men  for  the  ministry,  its  orthodoxy  was 
unquestioned  and  its  religious  spirit  pronounced  and  active. 

By  reason  of  his  excellent  preparation  and  the  admirable 
mental  training  he  had  received,  either  of  two  courses  were  open 
to  Henry  Ward.  He  might  aspire  to  lead  his  class  in  scholar- 
ship, become  a  "high-honor"  man,  and  possibly  take  the  valedic- 
tory, or  use  the  time  which  he  had  at  his  disposal  in  following 
out  those  studies  and  readings  that  were  to  his  taste. 

He  chose  the  latter,  and,  while  giving  sufficient  study  to  the 
college  course  to  preserve  a  respectable  standing  in  his  class, 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER*  I  1 3 

hi>  greatest  effort  to  carrying  out  his  own  plan  of  develop- 
ment arid  culture. 

"  1  had  acquired  by  the  Latin  and  mathematics  the  power  of 
study.'"  he  says.  "  I  knew  how  to  study,  and  I  turned  it  upon 
things  I  wanted  to  know." 

The  beauty  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics  did  not  attract 
him  ;  it  seemed  cold  and  far  away,  belonging  to  another  time  and 
another  order  of  mind  ;  but  our  English  classics,  with  their 
warmth  of  feeling,  their  lofty  imagination,  their  delicate  senti- 
ment, their  power  and  eloquence,  seemed  akin  and  near  to  him  ; 
they  had  to  do  with  the  present,  and  he  gave  himself  to  their 
study  with  a  whole-hearted  enthusiasm  that  rendered  him  pecu- 
liarly open  to  their  influences. 

Inspired  and  fed  by  them  as  to  what  to  say,  he  also  gave 
especial  attention  to  the  manner  of  saying  it.  Rhetoric  and 
oratory  were  diligently  pursued  throughout  his  college  course. 
In  these  departments  he  seems,  according  to  the  testimony  of 
his  class  and  college  mates,  to  have  excelled  then  almost  as  mark- 
edly as  he  has  since. 

Says  Dr.  Thomas  P.  Field:  "The  first  thing  I  particularly 
remember  about  him  in  college  was  this :  I  went  into  our  class 
prayer-meeting  on  Saturday  evening,  and  young  Beecher  gave  an 
exhortation.  He  urged  us  to  a  higher  life  and  more  constant 
activity  in  religious  work.  I  heard  him  a  great  many  times  after 
he  became  a  famous  preacher,  but  I  think  I  never  was  more 
moved  by  his  eloquence  than  in  that  boys'  prayer-meeting.  In 
the  regular  routine  of  our  studies  I  always  was  aroused  and  as- 
tonished by  his  extemporaneous  debates.  He  surpassed  all  the 
rest  of  us  then  in  extemporaneous  power  of  speech  as  much  as  he 
did  in  his  after-life.  There  was  where  he  seemed  to  me  particu- 
larly to  excel  as  a  student.  In  mere  recitation  of  mathematics 
or  languages  many  of  us  could  surpass  him,  but  in  extempora- 
neous debates  he  could  beat  us  all.  I  was  always  greatly  inter- 
ested, too,  in  his  written  essays.  We  were  in  the  habit  of  read- 
ing our  essays  to  the  professors  in  the  class-room.  Your  father 
always  had  something  to  say  that  was  fresh  and  striking  and 
out  of  the  beaten  track  of  thought — something,  too,  that  he 
had  not  gotten  from  books,  but  that  was  the  product  of  his  own 
thinking." 

Dr.  John  Haven,  another  classmate,  says  of  him  :  "  He  was  a 


ii4 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


great  reader,  and  probably  had  more  general  knowledge  than  any- 
one of  his  classmates  when  he  graduated." 

Says  Lewis  Tappan,  a  classmate  :  "  In  logic  and  class  debates 
no  one  could  approach  him.  I  listened  to  his  flow  of  impassioned 
eloquence  in  those  my  youthful  days  with  wonder  and  admira- 
tion." 

S.  Hopkins  Emery,  another  classmate,  in  answer  to  a  letter, 
writes  :  "  Nobody  could  be  gloomy  or  desponding  near  your 
father.  He  made  us  all  cheerful  and  happy.  Do  T  remember 
him  in  college  ?  Indeed  I  do — more  than  I  have  time  to  write  or 
you  patience,  perhaps,  to  read.  It  seems  but  yesterday  that  I 
was  reading  a  composition  in  the  lecture-room  of  Professor  Wor- 
cester. Beecher  sat  just  behind  me.  I  had  finished  reading, 
when  I  heard  a  friendly  whisper  in  my  ear  :  '  Emery,  your  porch 
is  too  large  for  the  house.'  It  was  a  good  criticism.  In  such 
college  studies  which  had  to  do  with  writing  and  speaking  the 
English  language  your  father  excelled.  The  dead  languages  and 
mathematics  never  seemed  to  suit  his  taste.  He  might  have 
excelled  in  them  if  he  had  been  so  minded.  He  was  equal  to 
anything  he  undertook.  No  one  was  his  match  in  extempora- 
neous talk  or  debate." 

This  power  and  its  exercise  upon  one  memorable  occasion 
was  fraught,  according  to  a  college  mate,  Rev.  S.  W.  Hanks, 
with  very  marked  consequences  : 

"In  the  annual  Sophomore  and  Freshman  fray  the  former 
found  themselves  engaged  with  a  force  that  was  more  than  a 
match  for  them,  and  their  pranks  upon  the  Freshmen  got  repaid 
with  much  more  than  the  usual  interest.  In  consequence  of  this 
a  meeting  of  all  the  classes  in  college  was  held  to  protest  against 
the  barbarities  of  this  customary  war,  in  which  the  smoke  of  the 
battle  usually  found  its  way  into  the  Freshmen's  rooms.  At  this 
meeting  a  leading  member  of  the  Junior  class,  finding  the  Sopho- 
mores a  little  wanting  in  courage  and  speaking  talent,  volunteered 
to  act  as  their  attorney,  and  made  a  telling  and  crushing  speech 
against  the  Freshmen  class  for  their  hard  handling  of  the  Sopho- 
mores, who  had  only  followed  an  old  custom  in  their  treatment 
of  the  Freshmen.  At  the  close  of  this  speech  by  the  '  leading 
Junior,'  Beecher  arose  and  said  he  wished  to  say  a  word  on  the 
other  side,  whereupon  he  '  went  for '  the  Junior  in  a  speech  full 
of  wit   and  point,  which  altogether  '  turned  the  tables'  to  the 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  115 

greal  amusement  of  all  present  and  the  great  annoyance  of  the 
'leading  Junior.'  When  the  meeting  broke  up  the  Goliah  of  the 
junior  class  found  himself  suffering  from  a  wound  which  the  little 
smooth  stone  from  the  sling  of  the  hitherto  unknown  Freshman 

had  made.  This  was  a  new  experience  for  the  proud  Junior,  and 
the  wound  rankled. 

"  It  seems  never  to  have  been  forgotten.  Time  passed  on  and 
the  'leading  Junior  '  became  a  leading  lawyer,  jurist,  judge,  and 
Democratic  politician,  and  when  the  great  scandal  arose  volun- 
teered a  very  strong  argument  against  Mr.  Beecher.  It  had  great 
weight  in  some  quarters,  but  was  less  convincing  to  those  parties 
who  remembered  that  this  judge  was  eagerly  embracing  the  first 
opportunity  that  had  offered  of  paying  off  an  old  score  of  their 
college  days." 

"  He  was  whole-souled  and  hearty,  humorous  in  the  extreme 
but  without  a  particle  of  viciousness,  a  reformer  and  an  earnest 
man."     This  is  again  the  testimony  of  his  classmate,  Dr.  Field. 

"  We  would  often  gather  on  the  steps  of  the  chapel,  a  num- 
ber of  us  incidentally,  and  if  your  father  was  in  the  gathering  we 
always  had  much  wit  and  sparkling  repartee,  and  anecdote  and 
description,  all  of  which  seemed  to  be  infused  by  your  father, 
and  of  which,  indeed,  he  was  the  greater  part.  He  always 
seemed  full  of  health  and  hilarity,  and  yet,  after  all,  there  was  a 
prevailing  seriousness,  an  earnest  purpose,  a  determination  to 
be  a  good  and  true  man.  I  never  knew  anything  of  him  but 
what  was  good,  and  great,  and  orderly,  and  becoming  a  Christian. 
I  have  heard  persons  say  he  was  wild  in  college.  Nothing  more 
untrue.  I  never  heard  him  utter  a  word,  and  never  heard  of 
his  doing  a  deed,  that  was  contrary  to  the  rules  of  morality 
and  propriety.  He  would  criticise  some  things  in  college  studies, 
etc.  I  remember  his  maintaining  very  decidedly  that  the  study 
of  mathematics  was  not  a  good  discipline  for  the  mind,  but  he 
never  set  himself  against  college  rules  of  order.  He  was  a  strong 
temperance  man,  and  was  very  bold  to  rebuke  his  fellow-students 
in  anything  he  thought  to  be  wrong." 

Of  his  social  and  humorous  qualities  Mrs.  Stowe  says  : 

"  In  fact,  Mr.  Beecher  was  generally  the  centre  of  a  circle  of 
tempestuous  merriment,  ever  eddying  round  him  in  one  droll  form 
or  another. 

"  He  was  quick  in  repartee,  an  excellent  mimic,  and  his  sto- 


I  1 6  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ries  would  set  the  gravest  in  a  roar.  He  had  the  art,  when  ad- 
monished by  graver  people,  of  somehow  entrapping  them  into 
more  uproarious  laughing  than  he  himself  practised,  and  then 
looking  innocently  surprised. 

"  Mr.  Beecher  on  one  occasion  was  informed  that  the  head 
tutor  of  the  class  was  about  to  make  him  a  grave  exhortatory 
visit.  The  tutor  was  almost  seven  feet  high,  and  as  solemn  as  an 
Alpine  forest.  But  Mr.  Beecher  knew  that,  like  most  solemn 
Yankees,  he  was  at  heart  a  deplorable  wag,  a  mere  whited  sepul- 
chre of  conscientious  gravity,  with  measureless  depths  of  unre- 
newed chuckle  hid  away  in  the  depths  of  his  heart.  When  ap- 
prised of  his  approach  he  suddenly  whisked  away  into  his  closet 
the  chairs  of  his  room,  leaving  only  a  low  one  which  had  been 
sawed  off  at  the  second  joint,  so  that  it  stood  about  a  foot  from 
the  floor.  Then  he  crawled  through  the  hole  in  that  study-table 
which  he  had  made  after  a  peculiar  plan  of  his  own,  and,  seated 
meekly  among  his  books,  awaited  the  visit. 

"  A  grave  rap  is  heard.  'Come  in.'  Far  up  in  the  air  the 
solemn  dark  face  appears.  Mr.  Beecher  rose  ingenuously  and 
offered  to  come  out.  'No,  never  mind,'  says  the  visitor  ;  'I  just 
came  to  have  a  little  conversation  with  you.     Don't  move.' 

"  '  Oh  ! '  says  Beecher  innocently,  'pray  sit  down,  sir,'  indicat- 
ing the  only  chair. 

"  The  tutor  looked  apprehensively,  but  began  the  process  of 
sitting  down.  He  went  down,  down,  down,  but  still  no  solid 
ground  being  gained,  straightened  himself  up  and  looked  uneasy. 

"  '  I  don't  know  but  that  chair  is  too  low  for  you  ;  do  let  me 
get  you  another,'  said  Beecher  meekly. 

"  '  Oh  !  no,  my  young  friend,  don't  rise,  don't  trouble  yourself; 
it  is  perfectly  agreeable  to  me  ;  in  fact,  I  like  a  low  seat.'  And 
with  these  words  the  tall  man  doubled  up  like  a  jack-knife,  and 
was  seen  sitting  with  his  grave  face  between  his  knees,  like  a 
grasshopper  drawn  up  for  a  spring.  He  heaved  a  deep  sigh  and 
his  eyes  met  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Beecher  ;  the  hidden  spark  of  na- 
tive depravity  within  him  was  exploded  by  one  glance  at  those 
merry  eyes,  and  he  burst  into  a  loud  roar  of  merriment,  which 
the  two  continued  for  some  time,  greatly  to  the  amusement  of 
the  boys  who  were  watching  to  hear  how  Beecher  would  come 
out  with  his  lecture.  The  chair  was  known  thereafter  as  the 
'  Tutor's  Delight'  " 


REV,   HENRY   WARD  BE  EC  HER.  IIJ 

IK-  carried  his  usual  sports  with  him  into  college  life.  "On 
Saturday  afternoons,"  says  Lewis  Tappaa, "  we  often  revisited  the 
woods  in  the  rear  of  our  former  home,  on  which  occasion  your 
lather  would  climb  the  tallest  trees  and  place  a  pillow-ea.-e  over 
the  holes  where  the  flying  squirrels  were.  I  on  the  ground 
rapped  the  trees,  startling  the  inmates,  who  were  caught  in  their 
efforts  to  escape. 

"  Botanical  and  geological  specimens  were  collected  on  the  way, 
and  in  his  room  your  father  had  a  good  collection  of  the  latter." 

He  joined  a  club  of  eight  who  boarded  a  mile  from  college, 
that  the  going  and  returning  for  their  meals  might  give  them  six 
miles  of  exercise  a  day.  This  was  done  in  part  to  save  expense, 
the  board  being  cheaper  at  that  distance  from  the  village.  He 
also  walked  from  college  to  Boston,  more  than  a  hundred  miles, 
on  his  vacations,  for  the  same  reason.  Yet,  with  all  his  care  in 
economy,  and  although  his  board  cost  him  but  $1.50  a  week,  it 
was  thought  at  one  time  impossible  to  keep  him  in  college  on 
account  of  the  expense,  as  this  letter,  written  by  a  friend  of  the 
family  during  his  Freshman  year,  will  explain  : 

"  While  Henry  and  Charles  were  in  college  your  father  and 
mother  felt  very  much  straitened  for  money.  One  evening  par- 
ticularly they  were  talking  about  it,  and  did  not  know  what  they 
should  do  to  keep  the  boys  along.  At  last  your  father  said  : 
1  Well,  the  Lord  always  has  taken  care  of  me,  and  I  am  sure  he 
always  will.'  The  mother  lay  awake,  she  told  me  afterwards, 
and  cried.  She  cried  because  she  did  not  see  how  they  should 
get  along  ;  but  what  most  troubled  her  was  that  her  husband  had 
so  much  faith  and  she  had  not  any. 

"  The  next  morning  was  Sabbath  morning.  Some  one  rang 
at  the  door,  and  a  letter  was  handed  in  containing  a  $100  bill 
and  no  name.  They  came  up  to  tell  me,  as  they  always  did,  but 
they  did  not  know,  nor  I  then,  who  gave  it.  I  found  out  after- 
wards it  was  Mr.  Homes — a  thank-offering  at  the  conversion  of 
one  of  his  children." 

The  following  letter,  written  near  the  close  of  his  Freshman 
year,  shows  the  bent  of  his  mind  at  this  period  : 

"  My  dear  Sister  : 

"  I  write  principally  to  tell  you  that  I  have  sent  the  '  Book  of 
Nature,'  and  that  it  is  probably  at  the  stage-house. 


I  1 8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  But  I  want  to  consult  you  on  a  plan  that  I  have  formed — 
for  I  possess  real  Beecher  blood  in  the  matter  of  planning.  It  is 
this  :  In  my  six  weeks'  vacation,  and  in  the  four  weeks'  one,  I 
mean  to  attach  myself  as  some  kind  of  agent  to  the  Bible,  or 
Tract,  or  Education,  or  some  other  society,  wherever  I  can,  and 
travel  round  to  the  small  towns  at  a  distance,  and  collect  funds 
or  distribute  Bibles  and  tracts,  or  something  like  that,  or  do 
something  or  other — of  course  I  can't  tell  what  they  may  want 
me  to  do. 

"  I  shall  in  a  month  or  two  be  eighteen  years  old,  and  I  think 
that  that  is  old  enough  to  begin  to  do  something.  I  can  get 
letters  of  the  president  and  professors  here  and  of  gentlemen  of 
Boston  to  establish  my  mission,  so  that  folks  will  not  think  that 
I  am  collecting  for  my  own  purposes  under  the  name  of  some 
society.  Will  you  write  to  me  about  it  ?  Tell  C.  that  I  have 
engaged  one  to  hear  me  recite  botany.  I  am  going  to  establish 
a  daily  prayer-meeting  here,  and  pray  for  a  revival.  Pray  for 
us,  too.  Mount  Pleasant  is  in  a  very  bad  state.  Lotteries  are 
here  without  number — five  dollars  is  the  highest  prize — and 
books  and  everything  else,  morals  and  all,  are  going,  I  believe, 
and  the  masters  (blind  fellows)  know  nothing  of  it,  although  one 
of  the  monitors  handed  in  to'  Mr.  Fellowes  a  lottery  scheme  in- 
stead of  his  report  in  the  division. 

"  Give  my  love  to  Mary  and  husband,  Catherine,  Cos.  Eliza- 
beth, and  all  who  care  for  me,  taking  a  goodly  portion  to  your- 
self. Your   Brother, 

"H.  C.  B." 

Lest  we  get  a  stronger  impression  of  his  sanctity  at  this  time 
than  the  facts  would  warrant,  we  add  this  incident,  related  by 
himself,  of  one  of  his  vacation  experiences  in  Boston  that  has  in 
it  a  very  decided  flavor  of  humorous  and  unsanctified  humanity  : 
"  Looking  for  a  friend,  I  rapped  at  the  door  where  I  thought  he 
lived.  The  door  stuck,  but  at  last  flew  open  after  a  good  deal 
of  tugging  from  the  other  side,  and  a  very  red-faced  woman  ap- 
peared and  asked  in  a  very  cross  tone  what  I  wanted.     '  Does 

Mr.  live  here  ? '   I   asked  very  meekly.      '  No,  he    don't  !  ' 

snapped  the  woman,  and  slammed  the  door  in  my  face.  I 
thought  I  would  teach  her  a  lesson  ;  so,  after  I  had  walked  a  little 
ways  to  give  her  time  to  get  to  work,  I   went  back  and  rapped 


REV.   11EXRY   WARD  BELCHER. 


119 


again  as  if  1  wanted  to  tear  the  knocker  off,  And  when  the 
same  woman  opened  the  door  I  shouted  at  the  top  of  \u\  voice, 

'  W'hv  said  Jit  didt  '  and  then  turned  and  walked  away.  When  I 
reached  the  corner  the  woman  was  still  gazing  alter  me  in 
amazed  silence." 

It  was  at  Amherst  that  young  Heeeher  began  his  anti-slavery 
<arccr,  as  he  tells  us  in  his  sermon  upon  the  death  of  Wendell 
Phillips: 

"  Fifty  years  ago,  during  my  college  life,  I  was  chosen  by  the 
Athenian  Society  to  debate  the  question  of  African  colonization, 
which  then  was  new,  fresh, and  enthusiastic.  .  .  .  Fortunately  I  was 
aligned  to  the  negative  side  of  the  question,  and  in  preparing  to 
speak  I  prepared  my  whole  life.  I  contended  against  colonization 
as  a  condition  of  emancipation — enforced  colonization  was  but 
little  better  than  enforced  slavery — and  advocated  immediate 
emancipation  on  the  broad  ground  of  human  rights.  I  knew 
but  very  little  then,  but  I  knew  this,  that  all  men  are  designed  of 
God  to  be  free,  a  fact  which  ought  to  be  the  text  of  every  man's 
life — this  sacredness  of  humanity  as  given  of  God,  redeemed  from 
animalism  by  Jesus  Christ,  crowned  and  clothed  with  rights  that 
no  law  nor  oppression  should  dare  touch." 

Of  his  religious  life  at  this  period  we  give  the  story  in  his  own 
words : 

"  When  I  went  to  college  there  was  a  revival  there,  in  which  I 
was  prodigiously  waked  up.  I  was  then  about  seventeen  years 
old,  and  I  had  begun  to  pass  from  boyhood  to  manhood,  but  I 
was  yet  in  an  unsettled  state  of  mind.  I  had  no  firm  religious 
ground  to  stand  upon.  I  was  beginning  to  slough  hereditary 
influences  without  being  able  to  take  on  more  salutary  influences, 
and  I  went  through  another  phase  of  suffering  which  was  far 
worse  than  any  that  I  had  previously  experienced.  It  seemed  as 
though  all  the  darknesses  of  my  childhood  were  mere  puffs  to 
the  blackness  which  I  was  now  passing  through.  My  feeling  was 
such  that  if  dragging  myself  on  my  belly  through  the  street  had 
promised  any  chance  of  resulting  in  good  I  would  have  done  it. 
No  man  was  so  mean  that  I  was  not  willing  to  ask  him  to  pray 
for  me.  There  was  no  humiliation  that  I  would  not  have  sub- 
mitted to  ten  thousand  times  over  if  thereby  I  could  have  found 
relief  from  the  doubt,  perplexity,  and  fear  which  tormented  me. 

"  I  went  to  Dr.  Humphrey  in  my  darkness  of  soul  and  said  : 


120 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


1 1  am  without  hope  and  am  utterly  wretched,  and  I  want  to  be  a 
Christian.'  He  sat  and  looked  with  great  compassion  upon  me 
(for  he  was  one  of  the  best  men  on  earth  ;  if  there  is  a  saint  in 
heaven  Dr.  Humphrey  is  one),  and  said  :  '  Ah  !  it  is  the  Spirit  of 
God,  my  young  man  ;  and  when  the  Spirit  of  God  is  at  work 
with  a  soul  I  dare  not  interfere.'  And  I  went  away  in  blacker 
darkness  than  I  came,  if  possible. 

"  I  went  to  an  inquiry-meeting  which  Professor  Hitchcock  was 
conducting,  and  when  he  saw  me  there  he  said  :  '  My  friends,  I 
am  so  overwhelmed  with  the  consciousness  of  God's  presence  in 
this  room  that  I  cannot  speak  a  word.'  And  he  stopped  talking, 
and  I  got  up  and  went  out  without  obtaining  rescue  or  help. 

"  Then  I  resorted  to  prayer,  and  frequently  prayed  all  night — 
or  should  have  done  so  if  I  had  not  gone  to  sleep  ;  I  tried  a  great 
many  devices  ;  I  strove  with  terrific  earnestness  and  tremendous 
strength  ;  and  I  remember  that  one  night,  when  I  knelt  before 
the  fire  where  I  had  been  studying  and  praying,  there  came  the 
thought  to  my  mind  :  '  Will  God  permit  the  devil  to  have  charge 
of  one  of  his  children  that  does  not  want  to  be  deceived  ? '  and 
in  an  instant  there  rose  up  in  me  such  a  sense  of  God's  taking 
care  of  those  who  put  their  trust  in  him  that  for  an  hour  all  the 
world  was  crystalline,  the  heavens  were  lucid,  and  I  sprang  to  my 
feet  and  began  to  cry  and  laugh  ;  and,  feeling  that  I  must  tell 
somebody  what  the  Lord  had  done  for  me,  I  went  and  told  Dr. 
Humphrey  and  others. 

"  I  endeavored,  from  that  time  out,  to  help  those  who  were  in 
trouble  of  mind  like  that  in  which  I  had  been  whelmed  ;  and  yet 
I  was  in  a  sort  of  half-despair." 

It  was  in  one  of  these  half-despairing  moods,  doubtless,  that 
he  sought  counsel  from  Moody  Harrington,  of  whose  piety  and 
wisdom  in  directing  inquirers  he  has  often  spoken.  Harrington's 
room-mate  writes  : 

"  It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  great  religious  movement  that 
one  day  Henry  Ward  Beecher  came  to  our  room — how  distinctly 
I  remember  it  ! — and,  with  a  countenance  betokening  a  mighty 
pressure  upon  his  spirit,  said  substantially  :  '  Harrington,  I  am  in 
great  distress,  in  spiritual  darkness  ;  I  don't  think  I  have  any  re- 
ligion. I've  come  to  talk  with  you.'  My  room-mate  took  him 
into  his  bedroom  and  talked  and  prayed  with  him  a  long  time, 
and  when  the  young  man  came  out  from  that  interview  his  face 


A' AT.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER.  121 

seemed  radiant  with  hope  and  peace.  Years  after  Beet  her  bad 
become  famous  he  would  repeatedly  speak  of  Harrington  as  hav- 
ing been  to  him  a  spiritual  helper  beyond  that  of  any  other  man 
he  had  known." 

His  first  talk  in  a  religious  meeting  outside  the  school  or  col- 
lege is  thus  described  : 

"I  think  it  must  have  been  late  in  my  Freshman  career  at 
Amherst  College  or  in  my  Sophomore.  My  mind  was  much  stirred 
and  distressed  at  that  time  on  the  subject  of  religion.  In  the 
class  above,  one  Moody  Harrington  took  much  interest  in  me. 
He  was  in  some  respects  a  remarkable  man  for  profound  religious 
feeling,  for  fervid  imagination,  and  for  remarkable  eloquence  in 
exhortation.  He  lifted  me  by  his  personal  sympathy  and  his 
encouragement  out  of  great  despondency  and  set  me  on  my  feet 
with  some  tremblings  of  heart.  On  one  occasion  he  asked  me  to 
walk  with  him  one  evening  to  Logtown  to  a  little  prayer  and  con- 
ference meeting.  After  Harrington  had  spoken  for  a  while  he 
turned  to  me  all  unexpectedly  and  asked  me  to  make  some  re- 
marks. I  was  confounded.  I  rose  and  said  something — I  do  not 
know  what,  nor  did  I  quite  know  then,  for  everything  was  whirl- 
ing darkness  while  I  was  speaking, but  it  was  the  letting  out  of 
waters.  I  never  ride  past  the  Dwight  house  without  going  out  of 
the  cars  to  look  over  the  place  and  to  bring  back  to  memory  that 
dismal  night,  and  that  dismal  speech,  and  the  dismal  walk  back 
to  college,  ashamed  and  silent." 

Another  important  event  took  place  in  his  Sophomore  year, 
January  2,  1832.  He  became  engaged  to  Eunice  White  Bullard. 
daughter  of  Dr.  Artemas  Bullard,  of  West  Sutton,  Mass.  Of  this 
event,  the  preceding  and  succeeding  acquaintance,  our  dear 
mother  has  written  in  a  paper  entitled  "  Looking  Back,"  of  which 
she  says  :  "  Of  course  all  this  is  no  help  to  you  in  preparing  your 
father's  life,  but  I  sit  and  dream  of  the  past  and  write  just  as  it 
rises  before  me,  as  fresh  as  if  but  yesterday,  hoping  by  doing  so 
something  may  come  to  me  that  will  be  of  service  to  you." 

We  shall  give  her  notes  just  as  she  has  written  them,  leaving 
it  for  our  readers  to  judge  whether  or  not  they  are  of  any  service: 

"  LOOKING    BACK. 

"Fifty-seven  years  ago  last  May,  1831,  my  brother  Ebenezer, 
then  in  his  Freshman  year   in   Amherst  College,   wrote  :  '  The 


I  2  2  BIOGRAPH  Y  OF 

term  closes  this  week.  I  shall  walk  home  (fifty  miles),  and  would 
like  to  bring  two  of  my  classmates  with  me.  We  shall  start  be- 
fore the  sun  and  hope  to  be  with  you  by  supper-time.  Don't  be  at 
any  more  trouble  than  if  there  were  three  Ebenezers  coming  home.' 

"  No  ;  of  course  not !  Sickness  in  the  village  made  it  im- 
possible to  get  help  that  summer,  and  mother  and  I  were  doing 
the  work  alone  for  a  very  large  family,  so  large  that  a  half-dozen 
more  or  less  made  little  difference. 

"  In  good  time  for  supper,  weary  and  travel-soiled,  my  brother 
and  his  two  friends  made  their  appearance  :  one  a  tall,  very 
dark-complexioned  gentleman,  the  other  a  very  verdant-looking 
youth,  a  Freshman  of  not  quite  eighteen — an  age  when  one  is 
prepared  to  find  a  young  man  awkward  and  painfully  embar- 
rassed, and  to  look  with  dismay  on  the  prospect  of  trying  to  en- 
tertain and  make  him  comfortable. 

"  But  even  then  the  roguish  mouth,  the  laughing,  merry  eyes, 
the  quaint  humor  and  quick  repartee,  very  soon  put  all  such 
anxiety  to  flight.  This  was  Henry  Ward  Beecher  as  I  first  saw 
him.  Truth  to  tell,  an  exceedingly  homely  young  man.  But,  in 
youth  or  old  age,  who  ever  thought  of  that,  or,  thinking,  believed 
it  after  being  with  him  an  hour?  Before  that  first  evening  was 
ended  none  of  the  family  thought  of  him  as  a  stranger  ;  he 
was  thoroughly  at  home  with  all.  There  were  truly  '  only  three 
Ebenezers  there,'  each  equally  ready  for  quiet  conversation,  mu- 
sic, fun,  repartee,  or  teasing  ;  but  the  youngest  of  the  three  was 
the  most  expert  in  the  latter  accomplishment. 

"After  our  outside  work  was  done  mother  and  I  took  knit- 
ting and  sewing  and  sat  down  with  them.  I  was  going  to  wind  a 
skein  of  sewing-silk  (that  was  before  spools  were  common),  and, 
as  was  my  custom,  put  it  over  the  back  of  a  chair.  More  gal- 
lant and  thoughtful,  apparently,  than  his  older  companions,  this 
young  gentleman  insisted  upon  holding  it  for  me  to  wind.  For 
some  reason — perfectly  unaccountable  if  one  judged  only  by  his 
quiet,  innocent  face,  without  watching  the  eyes  and  mouth — that 
skein  became  as  intricately  tangled  as  if  tied  by  Macbeth's 
witches.  'A  badly  tangled  skein,  is  it  not?'  said  he,  when  I  had 
lost  half  my  evening  in  getting  it  wound.  '  Rather  more  trouble- 
some, I  imagine,  than  if  I  had  kept  it  on  the  chair,'  I  replied. 
'  It  was  a  good  trial  of  patience,  anyhow,'  was  his  response  to  the 
laugh  that  followed. 


HE  I \  HE  A  rR  V   U  A  A' J)  BEE  t  HER.  \  2  3 

"Even  my  quiet  mother  was  not  exempt   from  of  his 

mirthful  sallies,  but  he  earned,  in  all  his  fun,  such  an  inexhaust- 
ible store  of  gentleness  and  good-humor  that  1  think  she  really 
enjoyed  it.  Often  in  after-years  she  used  to  say  that  Henry 
always  made  her  feel  young  again. 

"  My  father  had  been  called  out  some  distance  to  see  a 
patient  and  had  not  yet  met  the  '  three  Ebenezers,'  but  came 
in  just  ;is  we  were  all  laughing  heartily  at  some  story  Henry  had 
told.  He  stood  in  the  doorway,  tall,  dignified,  and  somewhat 
stern.  When  at  last  we  became  conscious  of  his  presence 
brother  at  once  came  forward  and  introduced  his  classmates. 
Father  received  them  courteously,  but  a  little  of  the  sternness 
.still  lingered  011  his  face  as  he  took  the  chair  which,  without  the 
least  appearance  of  boldness,  somehow  young  Mr.  Beecher  was 
the  first  to  bring  him,  yet  in  no  way  seeming  to  put  himself  for- 
ward. Little  by  little  the  same  subtle  influence  that  had  per- 
vaded the  whole  evening's  enjoyment  began  to  steal  over  father. 
The  little  cloud  seen  at  first  vanished,  and  long  before  it  was 
time  to  retire  my  father  was  telling  stories  and  Henry  following 
with  another  as  freely  as  if  they  had  been  boys  together. 

"  The  others  joined,  but  it  was  to  young  Beecher  that  father 
was  most  drawn.  When  the  '  good-nights  '  were  said,  and  while 
I  went  to  the  dairy  to  make  some  preparations  for  breakfast, 
father  and  mother  took  counsel  together  about  the  work  for  the 
morrow  and  various  matters  ;  but  just  as  I  returned  father  was 
saying  :  '  He's  smart.  If  he  lives  he'll  make  his  mark  in  the 
world.'  'Who,  father?'  I  asked.  'Why,  young  Beecher.' 
(But  father  didn't  quite  like  the  '  mark'  he  made  a  few  months 
later — '  Nothing  but  a  boy  !  ') 

"  The  visit  was  prolonged  some  days,  and  there  was  no  end 
to  the  fun  and  frolic.  Your  father  was  constantly  investigating, 
and  by  no  means  lacked  assistance  from  my  brother  and  his 
other  more  demure  classmate,  who,  however,  stayed  only  part 
of  the  time. 

"  Mother  and  I  were  necessarily  much  of  the  time  busy  in  the 
kitchen,  milk-cellar,  dairy,  etc.,  but  these  young  collegians  found 
those  places  most  attractive.  The  gentle  way  mother  smiled  at 
all  the  younger  one's  mischievous  pranks  was  a  source  of  per- 
petual delight  to  him.  He  ahvays  said  he  fell  in  love  with  my 
mother,  and,  not  being  able  to  get  her,  took  up  with  me. 


124  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  One  day,  in  taking  out  the  bread,  pies,  etc.,  from  the  old- 
fashioned  brick  oven  with  the  long-handled  shovel,  she  dropped 
some  ashes  on  one  of  the  pies,  and  called  me  from  the  dairy  to 
get  it  off  while  she  removed  other  articles.  Your  father  sprang 
forward.  '  No,  no;  I  will  get  it  off  for  you,'  and,  respectfully  tak- 
ing it  from  her  hands,  the  three,  without  her  seeing  the  mischief, 
marched  off  with  it  into  the  garden,  and,  seating  themselves 
under  a  big  apple-tree,  ate  it  all  up.  This  labor  of  love  accom- 
plished, the  others  rather  held  back  from  proclaiming  it,  but  your 
father  demurely  walked  in  and  handed  mother  the  empty  plate, 
saying :  '  There  !  see,  we  have  cleaned  the  plate  nicely  ! ' 

"  One  evening  your  uncle  told  him  one  of  their  classmates  was 

engaged  to  Miss .     ■  I  don't  believe  it,'  said  young  Beecher. 

'  She  knows  nothing  about  singing,  and  I  am  sure  F would 

never  marry  one  who  did  not.  I  know  I  never  would  marry 
a  woman  who  could  not  sing.'  Short-sighted  mortal  !  In 
the  evening  brother  asked  him  to  get  his  flute  and  have  some 
music.  He  did  so,  and  after  a  short  time  asked  me  to  sing.  I 
replied:   '  I  can't  ;   I  never  sang  a  note  in  my  life.' 

"  In  the  summer  and  fall  after  first  meeting  your  father  I 
taught  school  in  Clappville,  South  Leicester,  Mass.,  and  at  the 
commencement  of  his  fall  vacation  at  Amherst  Henry  found  it 
necessary  to  go  from  Amherst  to  Boston  (thinking  it  shorter,  per- 
haps /)  via  Clappville,  and  entered  my  school-room  just  as  I  was 
dismissing  the  school  for  the  day.  He  spent  the  evening  at 
Brother  Jones's,  where  I  was  boarding,  and,  incidentally  of 
course,  remarked  that  he  understood  I  was  intending  to  visit  my 
aunt  in  Whitingsville  during  the  winter.  I  replied  that  after  my 
school  closed  I  was  thinking  of  having  a  play-spell  before  taking 
another,  and  might  be  there  at  least  through  December. 

"  After  my  school  closed,  while  spending  some  time  at  home 
before  my  visit  to  my  aunt,  he  called  at  father's,  and  incidentally 
(again)  remarked  that  he  had  been  requested  to  teach  the  town 
school  in  Northbridge,  and  was  to  board  at  a  Mr.  Fletcher's 
(Whitingsville  was  only  a  part  of  Northbridge,  and  he  knew  it  all 
the  time). 

"  'Why,'  said  my  father,  'that's  where  Eunice  will  be.  Now, 
child,  you  have  been  teasing  to  go  to  some  academy  this  winter 
and  go  on  with  your  Latin,  but,'  turning  to  the  demure,  quiet- 
looking  young  man,  who  had  not  seemed  to  pay  any  attention 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  125 

to  what  was  going  on — '  l>u t  she  has  overworked  the  past  few 
months,  and  1  won't  let  her  go  to  school.     Perhaps,  as  you  are 

to  board  at  her  aunt's  and  she  will  be  there  a  short  time,  you 
might  give  her  some  help  if  she  is  in  trouble  with  her  Latin!' 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  he  didn't  appear  to  feel  it  an  intrusion, 
but  professed  himself  as  very  ready  to  render  me  any  service. 
Even  my  clear-sighted  mother  saw  nothing  out  of  the  way  in  fa- 
ther's suggestion.  '  He  was  such  a  boy  !  '  as  she  said  afterward. 
Neither  did  I,  as  I  might  have  done  had  he  been  older  ;  only, 
even  though  he  wras  now  a  Sophomore,  I  didn't  believe  he  could 
help  me  much — I  who  had  been  a  school-ma'am  for  three  terms  ! 
And  how  young  and  boyish  he  did  look  !  But  (an  after-thought) 
he  might,  after  all,  know  much  more  than  his  looks  led  us  to  give 
him  credit  for. 

"  He  came  to  uncle's  a  week  after  I  did,  one  Saturday,  so  as 
to  be  ready  to  begin  school  Monday.  That  evening  (January  2, 
1832)  the  young  teacher,  my  cousin,  a  young  lad  who  was  to  be 
under  his  care,  and  myself  were  all  in  the  parlor  writing.  Uncle 
and  aunt  were  out  calling.  He  interrupted  my  writing  by  ask- 
ing how  far  I  had  progressed  in  Latin.  Was  I  perfect  in  the 
Latin  grammar  ?  Could  I  conjugate  all  the  verbs  ?  etc.  I 
thought  it  a  queer  way  to  begin  teaching,  but  I  said,  '  Oh  !  yes  ; 
I  think  so.'  '  Suppose  you  try  some  of  them,  and  let  me  see 
how  well  you  understand  them.'  I  laughed  to  myself,  for  I  was 
sure  I  knew  them  perfectly,  and  rather  thought  I  knew  them  as 
well  as  my  teacher  ;  but  I  respectfully  conjugated  the  verbs  as 
he  gave  them  out,  and  at  last,  'Go  through  the  verb  "  amo." ' 
I  did  so,  soberly,  honestly,  without  a  thought  of  any  mischievous 
intentions.  I  went  through  it  creditably,  and  was  told  that  the 
lesson  was  perfect. 

"  I  then  turned  to  my  writing,  and  soon  after  he  slipped  a  bit 
of  paper  on  to  my  writing-desk  :  'Will  you  go  with  me  as  mis- 
sionary to  the  West  ? '  A  few  minutes  after  my  cousin  finished 
his  studies  for  the  evening  and  went  to  bed.  Then  some  few 
short  questions  ensued  and  a  few  shorter  answers  not  necessary 
to  repeat.  But,  as  the  embarrassment  consequent  upon  such 
abrupt  and  unexpected  questions  had  somewhat  diminished,  he 
urged  a  more  decided,  definite  answer  from  me  personally.  Sim- 
ply referring  him  to  my  parents  did  not  satisfy  him,  so  I  quietly 
remarked  :    'Why  !  I  can't  sing,  and  only  a  short  time  since  you 


f  2  6  BIO  GRA  PH  Y  OF 

said  you  would  never  marry  a  woman  who  could  not  sing  !'  *  Oh  ! 
that  was  six  months  ago,  and  I  have  changed  my  mind.'  'And 
in  six  months  from  now  you  may  change  it  again.'  '  No  !  I  did 
change  it  the  very  minute  you  said  that  night  that  you  never 
sang.      There  is  no  fear  of  my  changing  again.' 

"  The  next  day,  Sabbath,  uncle's  horse  shied  going  to  church, 
and  tipped  us  all  out  of  the  sleigh  ;  and  Henry  was  so  anx- 
ious to  know  if  I  were  hurt,  paying  no  attention  to  others,  that 
he  awakened  uncle's  suspicions. 

"That  week  at  the  week-day  evening  meeting  (Preparatory 
Lecture)  Henry  was  called  to  speak,  and  did  wonderfully  well, 
to  the  great  surprise  of  all  who  heard  that  'young  lad.'  After 
that,  while  he  stayed  at  Whitingsville,  he  spoke  at  almost  all 
the  evening  meetings,  and  always  with  increasing  surprise  and 
acceptance.  I  do  not  remember  your  father's  alluding  to  those 
meetings  but  once,  and  that,  I  think,  was  to  an  English  friend 
who  called  when  we  lived  on  'The  Heights.'  He  said,  smiling  : 
'  Whitingsville  was  my  first  pastorate.  While  teaching  there 
one  winter  I  spoke  there  several  times  and  in  some  other  places 
near  by.' 

"The  next  Saturday  after  giving  me  that  momentous  ques- 
tion on  that  little  slip  of  paper,  Henry  rode  to  West  Sutton  and 
spoke  to  father  and  mother,  to  their  infinite  surprise.  Mother 
was  grieved,  but  father  was  very  angry.  '  Why,  you  are  a  couple 
of  babies  !  You  don't  know  your  own  minds  yet,  and  won't  for 
some  years  to  come,'  he  repeated  over  and  over  again.  {Fifty- 
seven  years  have  given  ample  proof  that  we  did.)  But  father  was 
grieved,  mortified,  angry  that  he  should  have  been  so  blind. 
But  who  could  resist  your  father  when  he  pleaded  in  earnest  ? 
Mother  often  spoke  of  it  long  after  we  were  married.  She  said 
it  was  wonderful  how  he  swayed  that  strong,  proud  man,  my 
father,  who  winced  at  being  outgeneralled  by  a  boy.  His  ex- 
tremely youthful  appearance  perfectly  blinded  them  both.  But 
mother  was  soon  only  a  listener,  charmed  by  the  modest,  manly, 
earnest  manner,  illumined  occasionally  by  flashes  of  humor,  with 
which  he  opened  his  heart  to  father  and  finally  overcame  him. 
From  the  first  Henry's  youth  and  the  long  engagement  was 
father's  only  objection,  and  the  fear  that,  as  he  grew  older,  he 
would  repent  of  such  imprudence. 

"  From  the  first  hour  father  saw  him  he  was  drawn  to  him, 


RE  I '.  HENR  Y   II  A  A1/)  BEE(  HER.  i  2  7 

and  when  he  left  after  this  conversation,  and  returned  to  Whii- 
ingsville,  father  said  :  '  Boy  as  he  seems,  he  will  be  true  to  Eunice  ; 
[  have  no  fear  on  that  score.'  Just  before  your  father  came  to 
teach  several  branches  he  went  a  few  miles  out  from  Amherst  and 
gave  a  lecture,  1  think  on  temperance  (am  not  quite  sure),  for 
which  he  received  five  dollars.  With  it,  among  other  things,  he 
bought  me  Baxter's 'Saint's  Rest'— not  a  usual  love-token — and 
some  paper  that  was  for  me  if  his  suit  prospered.  On  the  fly- 
leaf of  the  little  hook,   in   pencil,   were  the  following  lines  : 

'  Take  it  ;  'tis  a  gift  of  love 
That  seeks  thy  good  alone  ; 
Keep  it  for  the  giver's  sake, 
And  read  it  for  thine  own." 

"Before  his  next  vacation  he  walked  to  Brattleboro',  Ver- 
mont, gave  a  leeture,  received  ten  dollars,  and  then  bought  our 
engagement-ring,  a  plain  gold  ring,  which  was  also  my  wedding- 
ring.     With  the  remainder  he  bought  books. 

"  The  three  years  in  college  soon  passed.  We  only  met  once 
in  three  months — vacations — and  there  was  nothing  unusual  to 
record.  The  'young  boy,'  'too  young  to  know  what  he  was 
about,'  as  we  were  so  often  told,  went  on  toward  manhood,  un- 
shaken by  opposition,  laughing  at  all  prophecies  of  inconstancy 
or  change,  and  then  we  bade  farewell  for  four  years  while  Henry- 
went  to  Lane  Seminary,  Walnut  Hills,  Ohio,  for  his  theological 
course." 

Somewhere  Father  Beecher  has  described  a  "  Saxon  court- 
ship "  as  "  a  grave  and  serious  thing.  It  is  a  matter  of  considera- 
tion. I  have  known  a  proposal  of  love  to  be  stated  like  a  propo- 
sition, and  calmly  argued  for  and  against  with  far  less  warmth 
than  Luther  would  have  felt  in  debating  a  thesis.  Indeed,  many 
courtships  are  like  attempts  at  kindling  fires  with  green  wTood — a 
few  starveling  coals  are  heaped  together,  a  mere  spark  dances  in 
and  out  upon  the  inhospitable  charcoal,  and  disappears  on  one 
side  as  fast  as  it  appears  on  the  other.  But  by  all  manner  of 
shavings  and  bits  of  paper — mere  trinkets,  as  it  were,  and  billet- 
doux — a  slight  flame  is  got  up,  which  strives,  with  doubtful  pros- 
pect, to  convert  the  smoke  into  blaze.  The  bellows  are  called  in, 
the  fire  is  fairly  driven  up  to  its  work,  the  green  sticks  begin  to 
sizzle  at  either  end;  and  though  at  last,  when  the  heat  triumphs, 


128  BIOGRA PH Y  OF 

the  fire  is  large  and  lasting,  the  poor  fellow  that  kindled  it  had 
to  work  for  it." 

Now,  we  never  could  bring  ourselves  to  asking  direct  ques- 
tions, and  we  do  not  suppose  that  we  should  ever  have  been  any 
wiser  if  we  had ;  but,  from  the  references  sometimes  made  to  rid- 
ing through  covered  bridges,  from  the  comical  look  that  would 
come  to  his  face  and  the  blushes  that  would  be  sure  to  come  to 
her  cheeks  when  the  raillery  around  the  table  became  hot  and 
personal,  we  were  led  to  believe  that  this  was  not  their  kind. 

On  two  leaves  of  his  diary,  written  probably  while  at  his  home 
in  Boston  in  the  vacation  that  followed  his  Freshman  year,  and 
during  the  summer  in  which  he  had  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Miss  Bullard,  we  find  the  following  : 

"Sept.  3,  183 1,  Sab.  morn. — I  found  the  correspondence  of  my 
father  and  own  mother  this  morning,  and  eagerly  sought  out  her 
letters  and  read  them.  O  my  mother  !  I  could  not  help  kissing 
the  letters.  I  looked  at  the  paper  and  thought  that  her  hand  had 
rested  upon  it  while  writing  it.  The  hand  of  my  mother  !  She 
had  formed  every  letter  which  I  saw.  S/ie  had  looked  upon  that 
paper  which  I  now  looked  upon.  She  had  folded  it.  She  had 
sent  it.  But  I  found  out  more  of  her  mind  than  I  ever  knew  be- 
fore ;  more  of  her  feelings,  her  piety.  I  should  think  from  her 
writings  that  she  was  very  a?niable,  lovely,  and  confiding  in  her  dis- 
position, yet  had  much  dignity.  She  appeared  to  have  a  mind 
very  clear,  strong,  yet  not  perceptible  till  brought  out  by  her  feel- 
ings. Her  letter  to  father  in  which  she  treats  of  '  love  to  God, 
whether  we  should  love  him  because  he  has  done  us  good  or  not,' 
etc.,  I  was  much  pleased  with.  And  I  could  not  help  observing 
that  her  letters  were  superior,  more  refined  and  conclusive,  than 
the  corresponding  ones  of  father's.  They  corresponded  upon 
subjects,  it  seems,  as  pride,  dress,  slander,  etc.,  etc.  Her  piety  was 
doubted  by  herself,  although  no  one  who  reads  her  description 
of  her  feelings  can  doubt  for  a  moment  that  Christ  was  found 
within  her  heart. 

"  The  letter  to  father  in  reply,  apparently,  to  one  in  which  he 
had  expressed  his  feelings  toward  her  and  urged  for  her  permis- 
sion to  hope  for  a  future  union,  pleased  me  much.  There  was 
much  playfulness  about  it.  I  thought  that  I  could  see  that  she 
loved  him  while  she  was  writing  it,  yet  she  tried  not  exactly  to 
show  it.     I  should  think  that  at  the  conclusion  she  told  her  feel- 


,     r  WARD  BEECHER.  129 

ings  frankly,  from  one  line  which  I  saw,  but  the  rest  was  torn  off. 
I  suspect  that  father  did  it  that  no  one  might  ever  see  it." 

In  common  with  many  other  students  of  limited  means,  he 
taught  a  term  of  eight  weeks  during  three  of  the  four  years  of  his 
college  course,  using  the  winter  vacation,  which  was  at  first  six 
weeks  long,  and  borrowing  two  weeks  from  the  winter  term  in 
college. 

Of  his  experience  in  Hopkinton  and  some  other  matters,  espe- 
cially the  fear  of  his  friends  concerning  his  engagement,  the  fol- 
lowing letter  to  his  brother  William  gives  some  interesting  details  : 

"Hopkinton,  Friday  eve,  1832. 
"  My  dear  Brother: 

"...  I  know  not  as  you  would  have  had  a  reply  at  all  if  it 
were  not  for  something  said  on  the  first  page.  Now,  I  supposed 
that  my  good  friends  wrould  find  out  all  at  once  that  my  engage- 
ment had  undermined  all  my  habits  of  study  and  was  ruining  me, 
nor  did  it  surprise  me  to  have  you  write  it.  It  is  all  false,  as  false 
as  it  can  be.  No  term  since  I  have  been  in  college  have  I  studied 
so  much  as  the  last  term  ;  no  year  accomplished  so  much  as  the 
last.  I  am  not  anxious,  however,  to  vindicate  myself  ;  I  am 
ready  to  have  you  all  think  so,  if  needful,  for  I  expected  it  from 
the  first. 

"  Soon  after  I  began  the  school  some  of  the  boys  began  to  be 
fractious — all  of  them  larger  and  stronger  than  myself.  Their 
parents  set  them  on,  and  they  determined  to  carry  me  out  of  the 
room.  A  large  fellow  disobeyed  me  before  the  whole  school,  and 
persisted  in  it.  They  hoped  I  would  thrash  him,  and  then  they 
would  rise.  But  I  turned  him  out  of  the  school  forthwith.  He 
came  the  next  day.  I  had  previously  told  the  committee  and 
asked  them  to  take  the  business  out  of  my  hands.  They  approv- 
ed, but  said  that  they  wished  I  would  do  it.  The  next  day  I  saw 
that  they  had  got  another  great  fellow  in  to  help  them.  I  called 
two  of  the  committee  in,  and  then  ordered  this  disobedient  boy 
out.  He  refused,  and  I  took  a  rule  and  beat  him,  and  finally 
broke  it  over  his  head.  He  struck  at  me  a  number  of  times  and 
I  parried  them.  The  large  ones  then  rose.  I  seized  a  club  of 
wood  and  struck  the  boy  three  times — tore  the  skin  each  blow. 
The  committee  had  to  take  the  other  fellows  to  keep  them  off.  I 
then  dismissed  the  school ;  told  the  committee  that  I  should  not 
keep  the  school  where  I  could  have  them  stand  by  and  see  such  a 


1  ;o  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

scene  without  doing  something  ;  that  if  they  would  see  those 
fellows  removed  I  would  go  on,  if  not  I  would  not.  They  said 
that  they  would  do  it  if  they  thought  they  had  power.  I  settled 
it  all  very  soon  by  saying  that  /  would  not  keep  the  school,  and 
set  my  face  as  though  I  would  return  to  Amherst.  But  the  next 
day,  Saturday,  it  rained.  The  committee  liked  my  school,  and 
gave  me  a  good  dismission  in  writing.  The  scholars  were  pleased 
for  the  most  part,  and  through  them  their  parents.  They  wished 
me  much  to  open  a  private  school.  I  waited  till  I  found  they 
were  in  earnest,  and  then  opened  one,  and  now  am  comfortably 
teaching  about  thirty  scholars.  Besides  this  my  time  is  loaded. 
Sunday  noon,  Sabbath-school ;  Sunday  afternoon,  five  o'clock,  I 
have  a  Bible-class  of  ladies  ;  Wednesday  and  Saturday  evenings, 
meetings  in  the  centre  of  town  ;  two  other  evenings  in  the  dis- 
tricts, and,  after  this,  Sunday  evening  in  the  vestry.  .  .  .  May 
God  bless  and  prosper  you. 

"  Your  affectionate  brother, 

"  H.  W.  B." 

Of  his  preaching  at  this  time  he  says  : 

"  My  earliest  remembered  sermons  were  delivered  at  North- 
bridge,  Mass.,  where  I  taught  school  for  three  months  in  1831. 
I  conducted  conference  meetings  almost  every  night,  and  a  tem- 
perance address  at  Upton,  Mass.,  where  old  Father  Wood  was 
pastor,  and  in  his  church.  In  the  winter  of  1832  I  taught  school 
in  Hopkinton,  Mass.,  and  carried  on  revival  meetings  every  night 
and  preached  on  Sundays.  The  people  were  plain  and  simple 
and  liked  the  effusions.  During  the  winter  of  1833  I  again 
taught  school  at  Northbridge,  and  made  a  formal  sermon  in  a 
chapel   over  the  new  store  built  by  Messrs.   Whitings." 

It  was  in  his  Sophomore  year  that  a  number  of  students, 
Henry  Ward  among  them,  invited  a  college  mate  who  had  been 
reading  up  on  phrenology  to  deliver  a  lecture  upon  that  subject. 
They  did  it  for  a  joke,  but  it  ended  in  Henry  Ward's  accepting 
this  philosophy  as  the  foundation  of  the  mental  science  which  he 
used  through  life. 

It  was  during  his  college  course  that  he  began  lecturing — that 
mode  of  communication  with  the  people  that  afterwards  became 
so  popular,  and  in  which  for  so  many  years  he  was  the  ac- 
knowledged leader.  His  first  formal  lecture  for  which  he  re- 
ceived pay  was  delivered  in  Brattleboro',  Vt.     He  was  paid  ten 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  i  m 

dollars,  and  walked  the  whole  distance,  nearly  fifty  miks  ea<  h 
way,  that  he  might  have  the  whole  sum  to  expend  as  he  pleased. 

Speaking  of  this  period,  he  says  : 

"  There  stands  before  me  a  line  of  battered  and  worn  books — 
English  elassies.  Their  history  is  little  to  them,  but  much  to  me. 
In  part  it  is  my  own  history.  I  wish  I  could  lay  my  hand  on 
\X\ki  Jirst  book  that  I  ever  bought  after  the  dim  idea  of  a  library 
began  to  hover  in  my  mind  !  But  that  book  is  gone.  Here, 
however,  are  others  whose  biography  I  can  give.  As  early  as 
1832  I  began  to  buy  books — a  few  volumes,  but  each  one  a 
monument  of  engineering.  My  first  books,  if  I  remember  cor- 
rectly, were  bought  of  J.  S.  &  C.  Adams,  in  Amherst,  Mass.  I 
used  to  go  in  there  and  look  wistfully  at  their  shelves.  My  al- 
lowance of  money  was  very  small — scarcely  more  than  enough 
to  pay  my  postage,  when  a  letter  cost  twelve  and  a  half  or  twen- 
ty-five cents.  To  take  a  two  or  three-dollar  book  from  my  five 
dollars  of  spending-money  would  have  left  me  in  a  state  of  sad 
impecuniosity.  Therefore,  for  many,  many  months  I  took  it  out 
in  looking. 

"  As  early  as  at  sixteen  years  of  age  I  had  begun  to  speak  a 
little  in  public — faint  peepings,  just  such  as  I  hear  in  young 
birds  before  they  are  fully  fledged.  For  such  service  the  only 
payment  was  a  kind  patience  till  I  relieved  them  by  finishing  my 
crude  efforts.  But  at  that  time — say  1832 — I  was  sent  by  the 
college  society  as  delegate  to  a  temperance  convention  in  Pel- 
ham,  or  Enfield,  or  somewhere  else.  I  conceived  a  desire  there- 
after to  give  a  temperance  lecture.  I  have  forgotten  how  I  ever 
got  a  chance  to  do  it.  But  I  remember  that  there  came  an  invi- 
tation from  Brattleboro',  Vt.,  to  lecture  on  the  4th  of  July. 
My  expenses  were  to  be  paid  !  A  modest  pride  warmed  my 
heart  at  the  thought  of  making  a  real  speech  in  public.  I  smoth- 
ered all  the  fears  and  diffidences  with  the  resolute  purpose 
that  I  would  succeed  !  I  remember  the  days  of  writing  and 
anxious  preparation,  and  the  grand  sense  of  being  a  man  when 
I  had  finished  my  manuscript  !  But  the  most  generous  purposes 
are  apt  to  be  ruined  with  selfishness  ;  and  my  public  spirit,  alas  ! 
had  a  financial  streak  of  joy  in  it — my  expenses  were  to  be  paid  ! 

"  Well,  suppose  I  chose  to  walk  and  save  all  the  expenses  ? 
I  should  have  at  least  eight  dollars  of  my  own,  of  which  I  need 
give  no  account !     That  would  be  an   era   indeed.      But  grave 


132  Biography  op 

scruples  arose.  Was  it  honest  to  take  money  for  expenses  which 
I  had  not  really  incurred  ?  If  I  went  by  stage  I  might  lawfully 
charge  my  fare  and  food  ;  but  if  neither  of  them  cost  me  any- 
thing, how  could  I  honestly  make  a  bill  of  expenses  ?  I  did 
not  get  any  relief  in  reflecting  upon  it.  I  started  off  on  foot, 
went  up  the  Connecticut  River  valley,  and  reached  Brattleboro' 
by  way  of  Greenfield. 

"  Every  hour  this  question  of  honesty  returned.  My  feet 
blistered  with  walking,  but  I  stamped  on  them  hard  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  the  momentary  exquisite  pain  seemed  to  paralyze  the 
sensibility  afterwards.  Whether  it  was  the  counter  irritation 
that  relieved  my  brain,  or  whether — as  I  fear  that  I  did — I  smoth- 
ered conscience  by  saying  to  myself  that  I  would  settle  the  mat- 
ter when  the  time  came,  I  do  not  know.  But  I  was  relieved  from 
even  that  struggle,  inasmuch  as  not  a  word  was  said  to  me  about 
expenses,  or  money  in  any  form.  Yet  I  had  a  charming  visit. 
The  rising  of  the  moon  from  behind  the  mountain  that  hedges 
in  the  town  on  the  east  powerfully  excited  my  imagination,  and 
led  to  the  writing  of  the  first  piece,  I  believe,  that  I  ever  printed. 
It  was  published  in  the  Guest,  a  college  paper,  issued  chiefly 
as  a  rival  to  another  college  paper  wThose  name  (alas!)  has  escap- 
ed me.  And  if  anybody  could  send  me  a  volume  of  that  Guest  I 
should  be  exceedingly  beholden  to  him  ! 

"  But  after  reaching  college  again — no  longer  a  mere  stu- 
dent, but  a  public  man,  one  who  had  made  speeches,  one  who 
determined  to  be  modest  and  not  to  allow  success  to  puff 
him  up — a  very  great  and  wonderful  thing  happened  :  the  post 
brought  me  a  letter  from  Brattleboro'  containing  ten  dollars.  I 
could  not  believe  my  eyes.  I  forgot  my  scruples.  Providence 
had  put  it  to  me  in  such  a  way  that  I  got  my  conscience  over  on 
the  other  side,  and  felt  that  it  would  be  a  sin  and  shame  for  me 
to  be  raising  questions  and  scruples  on  such  a  matter  !  But  O 
that  bill  !  How  it  warmed  me  and  invigorated  me  !  I  looked 
at  it  before  going  to  sleep  ;  I  examined  my  pocket  the  next 
morning  early,  to  be  sure  that  I  had  not  dreamed  it.  H<>\\  I 
pitied  the  poor  students,  who  had  not,  I  well  knew,  ten  dollars 
in  their  pockets.  Still,  I  tried  to  keep  down  pride  in  its  offensive 
forms.  I  would  not  be  lifted  up.  I  would  strive  to  be  even  more 
familiar  than  before  with  the  plainest  of  my  acquaintances. 
'  What  is  money  ? '  said  I   to  myself.      '  It  is   not    property  that 


V  WARD  Bl-  ,  133 

makes  the  man  ;  it  is—  '  Well,  perhaps  I  thought  it  was  the 
ability  to  deliver  eloquent  temperance  addresses.  But  great  is 
the  deceitfulness  of  money.  I  felt  the  pride  of  riches.  I  knew 
every  waking  moment  that  1  had  money.  I  was  getting  purse- 
proud. 

M  I  resolved  to  invest.  There  was  but  one  thing  to  invest  in 
— books.  I  went  to  Adams's  stoic  ;  I  saw  an  edition  of  Burke's 
works.  With  the  ease  and  air  of  a  rich  man  I  bought  and  paid 
for  them.  Adams  looked  at  me,  and  then  at  the  bill,  and  then 
at  me.  I  never  eould  make  up  my  mind  whether  it  was  admira- 
tion or  suspicion  that  his  face  expressed.  But  I  wanted  him, 
and  panted  to  have  him  ask  me,  '  Where  did  you  get  all  of  this 
ten-dollar  bill  ? ' 

"  However,  I  concluded  that  the  expression  was  one  of  genu- 
ine admiration.  With  my  books  under  my  arm  (I  never  to  this 
day  could  get  over  the  disposition  to  carry  home  my  own  pack- 
ages) I  returned  to  college,  and  placed  on  my  table  my  volumes 
of  Burke  !  I  tried  to  hide  from  myself  that  I  had  a  vain  pur- 
pose in  it,  that  I  was  waiting  to  see  Bannister's  surprises  and  to 
hear  Howard's  exclamation,  and  to  have  it  whispered  in  the 
class-room:  '  I  say  !  have  you  heard  that  Beecher  has  got  a  splen- 
did copy  of  Burke  ? ' 

"  After  this  I  was  a  man  that  owned  a  library  !  I  became 
conservative  and  frugal.  Before,  I  had  spent  at  least  a  dollar 
and  a  half  a  year  for  knickknacks  ;  but  after  I  had  founded  a 
library  I  reformed  all  such  wastes,  and  every  penny  I  could 
raise  or  save  I  compelled  to  transform  itself  into  books  ! 

"  As  I  look  back  on  the  influence  of  this  struggle  for  books 
I  cannot  deny  that  it  has  been  salutary.  I  do  not  believe  that  I 
spent  ten  dollars  in  all  my  college  course  for  horses  or  amuse- 
ments of  any  kind.  But  at  my  graduation  I  owned  about  fifty 
volumes.  The  getting  of  these  volumes  was  not  the  least  im- 
portant element  of  my  college  education.  There  are  two 
kinds  of  property  which  tend  to  moralize  life.  What  they  are  I 
will  tell  you  some  other  time,  if  you  will  coax  me." 

His  reading,  as  we  have  said,  was  very  largely  of  the  old 
English  writers,  whom  he  studied  until  the  flavor  of  their  lan- 
guage had  been  so  thoroughly  appropriated  that  it  is  very  plain- 
ly discernible  in  all  his  early  public  writings.  An  old  poet, 
Daniel,   who  belonged  to  the  times  of  Spenser  and  Shakspere, 


1 3 4  BIOGRA PH  Y  OF 

was  a  great  favorite  of  his.  In  a  sermon  preached  in  1862  he 
quotes  the  poem  that  especially  pleased  him.  We  quote  it  entire 
with  his  introduction,  and  venture  to  say  that  the  mind  that 
makes  choice  of  such  a  poem  is  sound  and  healthy  at  the  core  : 
"  I  remembered  a  poem  that  I  had  read  in  my  youth,  and 
that  I  used  to  hang  over  with  great  interest.  It  had  a  strange 
fascination  for  me  then.  The  writer  was  born  in  1562,  and  he 
wrote  it  somewhere  between  that  time  and  1600.  It  has  had  a 
good  long  swing,  and  it  will  go  rolling  down  a  great  many  years 
yet : 

'"He  that  of  such  a  height  hath  built  his  mind, 

And  reared  the  dwelling  of  his  thoughts  so  strong, 

As  neither  fear  nor  hope  can  shake  the  frame 

Of  his  resolved  powers,  nor  all  the  wind 

Of  vanity  or  malice  pierce  to  wrong 

His  settled  peace  or  to  disturb  the  same — 

What  a  fair  seat  hath  he,  from  whence  he  may 

The  boundless  wastes  and  wilds  of  man  survey  ? 

"  '  And  with  how  free  an  eye  doth  he  look  down 
Upon  these  lower  regions  of  turmoil  ! 
Where  all  the  storms  of  passions  mainly  beat 
On  flesh  and  blood  ;  where  honor,  power,  renown 
Are  only  gay  afflictions,  golden  toil  ; 
Where  greatness  stands  upon  as  feeble  feet 
As  frailty  doth,  and  only  great  doth  seem 
To  little  minds,  who  do  it  so  esteem. 

"  '  He  looks  upon  the  mightiest  monarch's  wars 
But  only  as  on  stately  robberies  ; 
Where  evermore  the  fortune  that  prevails 
Must  be  the  right  ;  the  ill-succeeding  mars 
The  fairest  and  the  best-fac'd  enterprise. 
Great  pirate  Pompey  lesser  pirates  quails: 
Justice,  he  sees  (as  if  seduced),  still 
Conspires  with  power,  whose  cause  must  not  be  ilL 

"  '  He  sees  the  face  of  right  as  manifold 
As  are  the  passions  of  uncertain  man, 
Who  puts  it  in  all  colcrs,  all  attires. 
To  serve  his  ends  and  make  his  courses  hold. 
He  sees  that,  let  deceit  work  what  it  can, 
Plot  and  contrive  base  ways  to  high  desires, 
That  the  all-guiding  Providence  doth  yet 
All  disappoint,  and  mocks  the  smoke  of  wit. 


A7  /'.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  135 

•' '  N01  is  be  moved  with  all  the  thunder-cracks 
Of  tyrants'  threats,  01  with  the  surl)  brow 
ot  Pow'r,  that  proudly  sits  on  others1  crimes, 
Charg'd  with  more  crying  sins  than  those  he  checks. 
The  Storms  of  sad  contusion  that  may  grow 
Up  in  the  present  for  the  coming  times, 
Appall  not  him,   that  hath  no  side  at  all 
But  of  himself,  and  knows  the  worst  can  fall. 

"  '  Although  his  heart  (so  hear  allied  to  earth) 
Cannot  but  pity  the  perplexed  state 
Of  troublous  and  distressed  mortality. 
That  thus  make  way  unto  the  ugly  birth 
Of  their  own  sorrows,  and  do  still  beget 
Affliction  upon  imbecility: 

Yet,  seeing  thus  the  course  of  things  must  run, 
He  looks  thereon  not  strange,  but  as  foredone. 

"'And  whilst  distraught  ambition  compasses, 
And  is  encompassed  ;  whilst  as  craft  deceives, 
And  is  deceived  :  whilst  man  doth  ransack  man, 
And  builds  on  blood,  and  rises  by  distress, 
And  th'  inheritance  of  desolation  leaves 
To  great-expecting  hopes  :  he  looks  thereon 
As  from  the  shore  of  peace,  with  unwet  eye, 
And  bears  no  venture  in  impiety.'" 

Such  is  the  record  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher  in  college.  It  is 
one  of  which  none  need  be  ashamed.  It  may  be  pondered 
with  advantage  and  followed  with  profit  by  every  one  standing 
himself  upon  the  threshold  of  that  eventful  period  in  his  own 
life.  It  is  the  record  of  a  man  who  was  loyal  to  duty,  to  truth 
and  purity.  Independent  in  his  line  of  thought  and  study,  yet 
obedient  to  the  government  of  the  college,  industrious  and  as- 
piring, his  course  was  essentially  a  period  of  education,  a  drawing 
out  of  his  powers,  a  training-school  of  his  whole  nature,  a  fitting 
preparation  for  that  high  place  which  he  came  ultimately  to  fill 
in  the  confidence  and  affection  of  the  nation  and  the  world. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Lane  Seminary — Dr.  Beecher  Called — Home  at  Walnut  Hills — Amusing 
Incidents — Family  Meeting — Death  of  Mrs.  Beecher — Extracts  from 
Journal — First  Mention  of  Preaching  in  the  West — Experience  in  Ec- 
clesiastical Matters— Despondency — Meeting  of  Synod — Influences  of 
the  Times — Revulsion — A  Riftalong  the  Horizon — "  Full  iolly  Knight." 

AT  the  close  of  his  college  course,  after  a  two-days'  visit  to 
Sutton  with  Miss  Bullard,  he  started  for  Cincinnati  to  begin 
his  theological  studies  at  Lane  Seminary,  of  which  insti- 
tution his  father  had  been  elected  president  and  professor  of 
theology,  and  whither  he  had  moved  with  his  family  two  years 
before.  The  Seminary,  located  at  Walnut  Hills,  two  miles  out  of 
the  city,  had  been  established  for  the  sake  of  supplying  preachers 
and  pastors  for  the  great  and  growing  West.  It  was  thought  that 
the  territory  traversed  by  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi  was  "  the 
valley  of  decision"  for  the  great  interests  of  our  country  and  of 
the  world.  To  meet  the  emergency  and  take  possession  of  this 
broad  domain  for  Christ,  its  rightful  Lord,  was  felt  to  be  the 
most  important  work  that  could  occupy  the  attention  of  the 
Christian  public.  It  had  been  decided  that  a  theological  semi- 
nary established  at  Cincinnati,  in  the  very  centre  of  this  district, 
afforded  the  most  effective  means  for  attaining  the  great  object 
in  view  ;  that  the  best  man  in  the  whole  country  should  be  se- 
cured to  stand  at  its  head  ;  and  that  that  man,  all  things  consid- 
ered, was  Dr.  Beecher.  He  would  bring  energy,  enthusiasm,  and 
practical  wisdom  ;  would  secure  confidence  in  the  work  among 
Eastern  capitalists,  and  conduct  the  enterprise  to  assured  success. 
Out  of  this  conviction  sprang  the  Seminary  and  the  call  to 
Dr.  Beecher  to  be  its  head.  He  was  in  perfect  and  enthusiastic 
sympathy  with  the  object  in  view.  He  says  of  the  project: 
"  There  was  not  on  earth  a  place  but  that  I  would  have  opened 
my  ears  to  for  a  moment.  .  .  .  But  I  had  felt  and  thought  and 
labored  a  great  deal  about  raising  up  ministers,  and  the  idea 
that  I  might  be  called  to  teach  the  best  mode  of  preaching  to 

the  young  ministry  of  the  broad  West  flashed  through  my  mind 

136 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


37 


like  lightning.      It  was  the  greatest  thought  that  ever  entered  my 
soul ;  it  filled  it,  ami  displaced  everything  else." 

Coming  to  this  definite  work  under  the  inspiration  of  this 
great  thought,  from  a  ehureh  which  had  been  for  years  in  the 
midst  of  a  continuous  revival,  he  had  naturally  given  the  Semi- 
nary a  markedly  practical  tone  of  spiritual  earnestness.  A 
strung  man  himself,  he  attracted  men  of  like  stamp  ;  and  there- 
had  come,  soon  after  he  took  charge  of  the  institution,  "  a  noble 

-  of  young  men,  uncommonly  strong,  a  little  uncivilized,  en- 
tirely radical,  and  terribly  in  earnest." 

Dr.  Beecher's  method  of  instruction  was  peculiar  and  in  har- 
mony with  his  spirit  and  purpose.  It  was  not  so  much  of  the 
formal  lecture  order  as  of  the  free  conversational  kind,  in  which 
questions  were  invited,  objections  were  answered,  thought  was 
quickened,  and  feeling  was  awakened,  with  the  result  that  the 
great  truth  which  was  the  subject  of  the  lecture  was  likely  to  be 
not  only  in  a  large  measure  comprehended  but  felt  and  appro- 
priated by  the  students. 

One  of  the  professors,  Calvin  E.  Stowe,  for  whom  Henry 
Ward  conceived  one  of  those  ardent  friendships  which  distin- 
guished him  through  life,  helped  him  in  the  same  direction. 
"  He  led  him  to  an  examination  of  the  Bible  and  to  an  analysis 
of  its  several  portions,  not  as  the  parts  of  a  machine,  formal  and 
dead,  but  as  of  a  body  of  truth  instinct  with  God,  warm  with  all 
divine  and  human  sympathies,  clothed  with  language  adapted  to 
their  fit  expression  and  to  be  understood  as  similar  language 
used  for  similar  ends  in  every-day  life."  And  we  have  now  in 
our  hands  a  roll  of  manuscript  in  which,  in  line  with  this  idea, 
the  young  student  wrote  out  during  his  theological  course  a  care- 
ful analysis  of  the  miracles  and  parables  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. 

Without  doubt  this  tone  of  the  institution  and  method  of  in- 
struction had  an  important  and  very  beneficial  influence  upon 
him  at  this  formative  period  of  his  professional  life,  giving  him  a 
genuine  enthusiasm  for  his  work,  and  training  him  to  investi- 
gate carefully  and  analyze  clearly  the  truths  brought  under  ex- 
amination. 

And,  that  there  might  be  lacking  no  element  for  his  fittest 
training  for  the  great  work  that  was  before  him,  the  question  of 
slavery  had  arisen  among  the  students,  creating  such  a  disturb- 


138  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ance  that  forty,  under  the  leadership  of  Theodore  Weld,  had 
withdrawn  just  before  he  appeared  on  the  ground. 

Of  the  place,  his  coming,  and  some  of  the  incidents  in  his 
life   his  brother,   Rev.  T.   K.  Beecher,  says  : 

"  By  and  by  they  two,  Henry  and  Charles,  came  to  study 
theology  in  Lane  Seminary,  a  brick  building  in  the  woods  of 
Ohio.  The  whistle  of  the  quail,  the  scolding  squirrels,  once  the 
heavy,  busky  flight  of  wild  turkeys — my  hero  killed  one  and 
claimed  a  second — the  soft  thump  and  pat  of  a  rabbit,  the  breezy 
rush  of  wild  pigeons,  were  here  heard. 

"  A  foot-path  led  through  the  woods,  over  which  came  three 
times  a  day  the  heroes,  shouting,  exploding  the  vowel  sounds, 
and  imitating  cows,  frogs,  and  crows — a  laughing  menagerie. 

"  The  Academy  of  Music,  two  miles  off  down-town — Henry 
primo-basso,  Charles  violin  and  tenor  ;  and  the  little  boy,  at  last 
an  alto,  permitted  to  run  between  the  heroes  and  sing,  while  eyes 
feasted  on  Charles's  violin  bow-hand,  and  ears  were  filled  with 
Henry's  basso,  are  well  remembered. 

"  The  'Creation  '  and  '  Hallelujah  Chorus'  were  our  winter's 
work,  and  Henry  was  off  sometimes  lecturing  on  temperance  and 
phrenology.  Sometimes  on  a  Saturday  morning,  at  family  prayer, 
there  were  Catharine,  George,  Henry,  Harriet,  Isabella,  Tom  and 
Jim,  Aunt  Esther,  and  father  still  praying  '  Overturn  and  over- 
turn,' and  singing  by  all  hands  : 

"  4  Awake  and  sing  the  song 

Of  Moses  and  the  Lamb  ; 
Wake,  every  heart  and  every  tongue, 

To  praise  the  Saviour's  name. 
Sing  on  your  heavenly  way, 

Ye  ransomed  sinners,  sing  ! 
Sing  on  rejoicing  every  day 

In  Christ  the  Heavenly  King.' 

Long,  long  discussions,  lasting  till  past  midnight  and  resumed 
at  every  meal,  of  '  free  agency,'  '  sovereignty,'  'natural  and  moral 
ability,'  interpretations,  and  such. 

"  Charles  could  whittle  graceful  boats  with  sharp  knife  out 
of  thick  sticks. 

"  Henry  had  the  full  set  of  Walter  Scott's  works. 

u  Charles  took  lessons  on  the  violin  of  Tosso,  in  the  city. 
Henry  wrote  something  that  Editor  Charles  Hammond  printed 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER.  \y} 

in  the  Cincinnati  Gazette  0  wonderful  Henry!  They  both 
wrote  long,  long  letters  to  two  far-away  beings,  and  the  little  boy 
sometimes  took  them  to  the  post-offi<  e  and  paid  twenty-five  cents, 

wondering  what  they  could  find  to  write  such  long,  long  letters 
about." 

I  lis  brother  Charles  sa]  s  . 

M  The  glorious  old  forest  lay  between  the  Seminary  and  father's 
house,  and  we  made  it  ring  with  vocal  practice  and  musical  scales 
and  imitations  of  band-music.  The  house  father  occupied  was  of 
brick,  and  Henry  whitewashed  it  with  a  kind  of  whitewash  that 
was  equal  to  paint,  of  a  sort  of  cream  color.  I  can  see  him  now, 
on  his  tall  ladder,  with  his  spattered  overalls,  working  away. 

u  One  of  our  professors  was  B ,  a  nice,  dapper,  rosy  little 

man,  in  the  chair  of  history.  We  naughty  boys  made  fun  of 
him.  Henry  took  notes.  I  would  give  something  handsome  for 
that  note-book.  B was  fond  of  quoting  authors  with  sound- 
ing names,  Bochart  among  others,  and  Henry  would  have  it  '  Go- 
cart,'  and  made  a  hieroglyphic  to  that  effect. 

u  We  walked  to  and  from  the  city,  up  and  down  the  long  hill, 
and  attended  father's  church,  Second  Presbyterian,  on  Fourth 
Street.  Henry  had  a  Bible-class  of  young  ladies,  for  which  he 
made  preparation  by  writing." 

For  three  years  young  Beecher  was  again  a  member  of  the 
home-circle,  from  which  he  had  been  so  long  separated.  This 
home  had  apparently  lost  none  of  that  broad,  open-doored  hospi- 
tality and  cheerful  spirit  that  so  markedly  characterized  it  in 
Litchfield.  "  The  house  was  full.  There  was  a  constant  high 
tide  of  life  and  animation.  The  old  carry-all  was  perpetually 
vibrating  between  home  and  the  city,  and  the  excitement  of  com- 
ing and  going  rendered  anything  like  stagnation  an  impossi- 
bility." "It  was  an  exuberant  and  glorious  life  while  it  lasted. 
The  atmosphere  of  the  household  was  replete  with  mental  oxy- 
gen, full  charged  with  intellectual  electricity.  Nowhere  else  have 
we  felt  anything  resembling  or  equalling  it.  It  was  a  kind  of 
moral  heaven,  the  purity,  vivacity,  inspiration,  and  enthusiasm  of 
which  only  those  can  appreciate  who  have  lost  it  and  feel  that  in 
this  world  there  is,  there  can  be,  no  place  like  home." 

Of  two  of  its  members  and  some  of  their  make-shifts  we  have 
this  account,  copied  from  his  journal  : 

"  The  Economical  Family. — My  father  was  an  excellent  man 


v 


I40  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

(for  no  one  provided  better  dinners — soups,  codfish,  mutton- 
chops  ;  even,  upon  great  days,  he  has  been  known  to  have  a 
turkey).  He  was  a  man  of  enlarged  mind  and  great  sagacity. 
He  was  before  his  age  in  his  views,  and  always  before  his  salary 
in  his  expenses.  This  was  from  no  want  of  calculation :  no- 
body ever  was  longer  and  shrewder  in  that.  But  he  was  aspiring, 
and  by  nature  seemed  to  go  beyond  things  seen,  far  into  the 
region  of  things  hoped  for. 

"  His  sister,  an  antique  maiden  lady,  differed  vastly  from  him 
and  could  in  no  sense  be  called  enlightened.  It  was  astonishing 
to  see  how  his  example  and  his  reasoning  were  thrown  away  upon 
her.  To  the  last  she  clung  to  those  earthly,  low  notions  which 
seem  so  peculiar  to  this  world.  She  would  persist  in  saying 
that  no  one  should  buy  what  he  could  not  pay  for,  nor  pay  for 
any  new  thing  until  old  debts  were  settled.  Nor  could  she  be 
brought  to  adopt  an  enlarged  policy  in  respect  to  the  family. 
We  were  obliged  to  wear  clothes  until  they  were  worn  out — at 
least  out  at  the  knees  and  elbows — altho'  the  fashion  should 
change  a  dozen  times  during  that  period.  So  that  it  was  not  un- 
common to  find  one's  self  two  or  three  times  the  pink  of  fashion 
before  a  suit  was  fairly  condemned  as  unseaworthy.  In  fact,  we 
may  be  said  always  to  have-  set  the  fashion  at  such  times,  since 
we  were  seen  wearing  the  proper  cut  before  even  the  leading 
beau.  But  if  this  was  comfortable  it  was  but  little  amends  for 
the  days  of  darkness  which  ensued.  One  day  we  revelled  (?)  in 
our  glory  ;  the  next  every  one  gaped  at  our  uncouth  fashion. 
We  might  properly  be  likened  to  a  ship  riding  gracefully  upon 
the  water,  but  suddenly  left  by  the  tide  sticking  in  the  mud,  stiff 
and  immovable.  I  used  to  comfort  myself,  when  laughed  at,  by 
saying,  '  Never  mind  ;  you  laugh  now,  before  six  months  you'll  be 
imitating  me.'  And  so  it  often  proved,  till  I  began  to  think  I 
was  a  prophet. 

"  But  it  is  of  the  family  I  write  and  not  of  myself,  for  be  it 
known  that  I  am  not  under  vassalage.  I  am  free  from  both  au- 
thority and — money  ;  the  latter  condition  as  no  reproach.  I 
have  often  noticed  that  these  two  kinds  of  independence  are 
closely  allied.     True  independence  seems  always  in  the  lurch." 

One  amusing  incident  that  grew  out  of  the  half  country- 
farm  life  which  they  then  lived  he  used  often  to  refer  to. 

Living   in   the   outskirts  of   the  city,  where  the  fences  were 


14 1 

poor  and  stra)  ing  i  attle  often  gave  them  great  annoyam  e,  I  [enry 
one  day,  to  his  immense  disgust,  found  a  cow  quietly  resting  in 
the  middle  of  the  barn  floor.  With  the  accumulated  indigna- 
tion aroused,  by  numerous  chases,  which  these  poachers  of  the 
highway  had  led  him,  by  many  tramplings  across  flower-beds 
and  destruction  of  the  garden  vegetables,  he  drove  her  out  and 
chased  her  down  the  street.  Coming  in  hot  and  tired  from  his 
run,  he  threw  himself  upon  the  sofa,  saying  :  "  There,  I  guess  I 
have  taught  one  old  cow  to  know  where  she  belongs  !  "  "  What 
do  you  mean?"  said  the  doctor,  looking  up  apprehensively  from 
his  paper.  "  Why,  I  found  another  cow  in  the  barn,  and  I  have 
turned  her  out  and  chased  her  clear  down  the  street,  and  I  think 
she  will  stay  away  now."  "Well,"  said  Dr.  Beecher,  "you  have 
done  it.  I  have  just  bought  that  cow,  and  had  to  wade  the 
Ohio  River  twice  to  get  her  home,  and  after  I  have  got  her  safely 
into  the  barn  you  have  turned  her  out.  You  have  done  it,  and 
no  mistake."      And  the  chasing  of  that  cow  was  renewed. 

His  humor  bubbled  out  at  all  times  and  in  all  places,  finding 
its  occasion  even  in  so  staid  a  matter  as  chapel  prayers.  He 
roomed  with  Prof.  Stowe,  wrho  was  the  soul  of  punctuality,  and 
was  continually  pained  at  the  failure  of  his  young  room-mate  to 
be  on  time  at  morning  prayers  in  the  Seminary  chapel. 

Having  done  his  best  to  wake  him  up  one  morning,  apparent- 
ly without  success,  he  had  gone  down-stairs  with  many  expres- 
sions of  disgust.  No  sooner  was  he  out  of  the  room  than  Henry 
sprang  up,  dressed  himself  as  only  college  students  can,  ran  to 
the  Seminary  by  a  back  way,  and  when  the  professor  entered  was 
sitting  demurely  in  front  of  the  desk.  The  amazement  of  the 
teacher  at  this  unexpected  appearance,  rubbing  his  glasses  and 
peering  at  him  again  and  again  to  determine  whether  it  was  real 
or  he  only  saw  a  vision,  war  always  remembered  by  Mr.  Beecher 
with  a  chuckle  of  merriment. 

For  a  short  time  near  the  close  of  his  theological  course 
he  edited  a  paper,  and  appears  to  have  done  his  work  with 
marked  success;  but  circumstances  brought  it  to  a  speedy  close. 
"  The  Cincinnati  Journal  needed  an  editor.  There  was  at  that 
time  in  the  middle  class  of  Lane  Seminary  a  green  young  man 
of  some  facility  of  pen.  He  had  written  a  series  of  anonymous 
articles  on  the  Catholic  question  in  the  evening  paper  edited 
by  Mr.  Thomas.     He  was  considered   rather  tonguey,  and  not 


1 4  2  riogka  rn  V  OF 

likely  to  back  down  from  anything  from  want  of  hopefulness  and 
self-confidence.  Him  Dr.  Brainerd  called  to  the  chair,  and,  on 
relinquishing  the  editorship,  recommended  this  beardless  youth 
to  the  proprietors  of  the  journal  as  his  successor.  One  fine 
morning  this  young  man  found  himself  an  editor  upon  a  salary  ! 
An  editor  must  have  a  coat ;  and  Piatt  Evans  made  a  lion-skin 
overcoat  that  has  never  had  a  successor  or  an  equal.  He  must 
have  a  watch  !  A  plain,  white-faced  watch  soon  ticked  in  his 
pocket.  Alas  !  evil  days  befell  the  publishers.  The  paper  had 
a  new  owner.  He  did  not  want  the  young  editor;  the  young 
editor  did  want  the  watch,  but  could  not  pay  for  it  ;  the  seller 
took  it  back,  to  the  great  grief  of  the  young  theologian,  who  went 
back  disconsolate  to  his  classes  at  Lane  Seminary,  and  was 
broken-hearted  for  a  whole  day.  The  young  man  recovered,  and 
has  been  in  mischief  ever  since,  some  folks  think." 

When  the  pro-slavery  riots  broke  out  in  Cincinnati  in  1836, 
and  James  G.  Birney's  printing-office  and  press  were  destroyed 
by  a  mob  headed  by  Kentucky  slaveholders,  young  Beecher  vol- 
unteered and  was  sworn  in  as  special  constable,  and  for  several 
nights  patrolled  the  streets  thoroughly  armed  to  protect  the  ne- 
groes and  their  friends.  He  was  earnest  in  this  matter,  as  in 
everything  else  that  he  undertook.  His  sister  Harriet,  finding 
him  busy  running  bullets,  and  asking  him  what  he  was  doing  it 
for,  was  a  good  deal  startled  to  hear  him  answer  in  a  hard,  deter- 
mined voice  :  "  To  kill  men." 

Besides  the  influence  of  this  common,  every-day  life,  which 
was  afterwards  reflected  in  his  own  hospitable  spirit  and  home, 
two  domestic  events  took  place  during  these  three  years  that  de- 
serve more  especial  notice.  The  first  was  "  the  Family  Meet- 
ing." 

"  Long  before  Edward  came  out  here  the  doctor  had  tried  to 
have  a  family  meeting,  but  did  not  succeed.  The  children  were 
too  scattered.  Two  were  in  Connecticut,  some  in  Massachusetts, 
and  one  in  Rhode  Island.  But  now — just  think  of  it  ! — there  has 
been  a  family  meeting  in  Ohio  !  When  Edward  returned  he 
brought  on  Mary  from  Hartford.  William  came  down  from  Put- 
nam, George  from  Batavia,  Ohio  ;  Catharine  and  Harriet  were 
here  already  ;  Henry  and  Charles  at  home,  too,  besides  Isabella, 
Thomas,  and  James.  These  eleven  !  The  first  time  they  all 
ever  met  together !     Mary  had  never  seen  James,  and  she  had 


A7  V.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  \  [$ 

seen  Thomas  bul  once.  Su<  h  a  time  as  they  had  !  The  old 
doctor  was  almost  transported  with  joy.  The  affair  had  been 
under  negotiation  for  some  time.  He  returned  home  from  Day- 
ton late  one  Saturday  evening.  The  next  morning  they  for  the 
first  time  assembled  in  the  parlor.  There  were  more  tears  than 
words.  The  doctor  attempted  to  pray,  but  could  scarcely  speak. 
His  full  heart  poured  itself  out  in  a  flood  of  weeping.  He  could 
not  go  on.  Edward  continued,  and  each  one  in  his  turn  uttered 
some  sentence  of  thanksgiving.  They  then  began  at  the  head 
and  related  their  fortunes.  After  special  prayer  all  joined  hands 
and  sang  'Old  Hundred  '  in  these  words  : 

"  '  From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies 
Let  the  Creator's  praise  arise.' 


"When  left  alone  in  the  evening  they  had  a  general  examina- 
tion of  all  their  characters.  The  shafts  of  wit  flew  amain,  the 
doctor  being  struck  in  several  places.  He  was,  however,  expert 
enough  to  hit  most  of  them  in  return.  From  the  uproar  of  the 
general  battle  all  must  have  been  wounded.  .   .  . 

"  Tuesday  morning  saw  them  together  again,  drawn  up  in  a 
straight  line  for  the  inspection  of  the  king  of  happy  men.  After 
receiving  particular  instructions  they  formed  into  a  circle.  The 
doctor  made  a  long  and  affecting  speech.  He  felt  that  he  stood 
for  the  last  time  in  the  midst  of  all  his  children,  and  each  word 
fell  with  the  weight  of  a  patriarch's.  He  embraced  them  once 
more  in  all  the  tenderness  of  his  big  heart.  Each  took  of  all  a 
farewell  kiss.  With  joined  hands  they  united  in  a  hymn.  A 
prayer  was  offered,  and  finally   the  parting  blessing  was  spoken." 

The  other  event  referred  to  was  the  death  of  Mrs.  Beecher, 
which  occurred  at  the  close  of  Henry's  first  Seminary  year.  She 
was  his  step-mother,  but  "  she  did  all  that  she  could  for  my 
good." 

"  In  the  holy  yearnings  of  this  truly  devoted  mother  the 
whole  family  was  included  ;  nor  could  the  older  children  perceive 
any  less  fervency  in  her  desires  for  their  true  welfare  than  for 
that  of  her  own  flesh  and  blood."  And  it  was  with  deep  and  true 
feeling  that  he  writes  "  that  God  was  with  her  in  her  closing  days, 
and  that  the  light  of  his  countenance  cheered  her  passage  to  the 
tomb." 


144  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

These  varied  experiences  of  joy  and  sorrow  in  the  home-life 
of  this  period  ;  this  variety  of  occupation — now  studying  and  at- 
tending lectures  in  the  Seminary,  lecturing  on  temperance  and 
phrenology,  drilling  in  the  "  Hallelujah  Chorus,"  painting  the  old 
family  mansion,  accompanying  his  father  in  his  attendance  up- 
on presbytery  and  synod,  now  a  constable  and  anon  an  editor — 
all  contributed  to  give  him  a  broad  culture,  had  much  to  do  with 
the  variety  of  labor  which  he  undertook  in  after-life,  and  fitted 
him  for  that  easy,  natural,  and  familiar  mingling  with  all  kinds 
and  conditions  of  men  which  was  in  him  so  marked  a  character- 
istic. 

Of  what  he  did,  read,  and  thought  at  this  time  we  are  fortu- 
nate in  having  another  source  of  authentic  information  from  his 
own  pen.  Upon  the  unruled  blank  leaf  of  a  letter-book,  as  large 
as  a  commercial  ledger  and  heavily  bound  in  leather,  is  written  in 
a  large  hand,  large  enough  to  cover  the  whole  page  : 

JOURNAL 

OF 

EVENTS,    FEELINGS,    THOUGHTS,    PLANS,    ETC, 

JUST    AS    THEY    HAVE    MET    ME,    THUS    GIVING    IN    PART 

A     TRANSCRIPT     OF     MY     INNER     AND     OUTER     LIFE. 

BEGUN    JUNE,    1 835,    AT    DANE    THEOL.    SEMINARY. 

On  the  first  page,  "  Begun  three  days  after  birthday,"  June 
27.  "I  have  tried  times  without  number  to  keep  a  diary  or 
a  journal  of  my  religious  feelings.  I  have  never  succeeded." 
1.  "I  am  not  enough  contemplative  to  make  a  record  of  re- 
flections and  feelings  very  definite."  2.  "  I  never  could  be  sin- 
cere. The  only  use  which  I  distinctly  know  that  I  have  derived 
from  it  is  a  knowledge  of  my  being  very  averse  to  saying  just 
what  my  feelings  were.  I  could  not  help  feeling  :  '  This  will, 
perhaps,  be  seen.'  And  why  should  I  not  so  feel  ?  One  object 
in  keeping  a  journal  is  to  look  back  upon  your  mind  as  it  reflect- 
ed itself  at  different  periods  past,  and  if  you  keep  one  no  one  can 
pretend  to  have  enough  of  prospective  wisdom  to  save  it  from 
the  hands  of  others." 


RE  I '.  HENR  \ '  ll'.l  RD  BEECHER.  I .  j  5 

After  half  a  page  of  reasons  why  this  possibility — which  has 
indeed  been  realized — may  take    place,  he   says:   "Can  I  conceal 

it  all  from  myself,  and  feign  to  myself  that  that  which  I  am  dis- 
closing and  giving  form  and  permanence  to,  my  most  secret  feel- 
ings, none  will  see  ?  And  when  I  feel  secretly  that  they  will  be 
seen,  is  it  possible  to  go  through  honestly  a  narration  of  those 
emotions   from   the  disclosure   of   which   1   shrink  in  my  inmost 

soul  ?" 

In  view  of  this  possibility,  he  decides  upon  a  modification  of 
his  ideal : 

"  In  this  journal  I  do  not  set  before  me  as  an  object  to  tell 
all  my  feelings,  but  only  such  as  for  any  reason  I  may  choose  to 
tell.  I  intend  to  record,  too,  my  opinions  and  reflections  on  oc- 
currences, on  persons,  on  books,  and  to  find  a  resting-place,  if 
possible,  for  many  of  those  daily  thoughts  which  are  too  short  and 
unconnected  to  be  noted  down  separately,  and  yet  of  some  small 
value,  perhaps — at  least  to  give  variety  to  a  journal.  Then,  too, 
being  little  tenacious  of  dates,  I  here  mean  to  record  and  date 
all  changes  in  my  life,  that  afterwards,  when  business  and  multi- 
plicity of  other  facts  have  crowded  from  my  mind  such  facts,  I 
may  here  recur  as  to  a  faithful  chronicle   and  refresh  my  memory. 

"  Here,  then,  I  mean  to  be  at  ease,  and  not  molest  myself  with 
any  obligations  to  write  so  much,  or  so  often,  or  so  anything,  but 
in  mental  dishabille  I  will  stroll  through  my  mind  and  do  as  I 
choose." 

It  can  well  be  supposed  that  with  such  an  introduction  facing 
us  we  feel  some  delicacy,  even  with  the  quasi  permission  which 
his  departure  from  the  true  ideal  of  a  journal  gives,  in  handling, 
and  especially  in  giving  to  the  public,  the  matters  which  are  here 
written.  While  we  find  no  word  that  a  perfectly  upright  and 
honorable  man  need  be  ashamed  of,  we  do  find  private  matters 
which  we  have  no  right  to  make  public.  Out  of  the  great 
amount  of  material  which  the  journal  affords  we  have  selected 
such  portions  as  illustrate  the  salient  features  of  his  life,  char- 
acter, work,  and  methods  at  this  time. 

First  of  all,  we  find  him  still  keeping  up  the  old  habit  of  read- 
ing, and  after  a  very  critical  method. 

"July  1,  1835. — I  finished  Scott's  'Antiquary'  this  morning, 
and  I  propose  giving  some  little  account  of  my  impressions.  To 
do  it  I  shall  be  obliged  to  collect  my  general  scattered  feelings 


I46  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

into  a  definite,  tangible  form  ;  and  if  I  always  did  it  after  reading 
I  should  have  more  numerous  ideas  of  things  and  of  their  forms, 
and  more  correct  ones. 

"  I  think  it  one  of  Scott's  best,  although  my  personal  taste 
gives  his  novels  founded  on  warlike  customs,  as  '  Ivanhoe,'  more 
relish.  But  that  does  not  alter  the  abstract  merits  of  this,  for 
there  are  grounds  of  judging  a  work  altogether  aside  from  our 
taste  as  to  the  subject  judged.  There  are  but  two  general  con- 
siderations in  estimating  a  novel.  First,  has  the  author  been  a 
faithful  copyist  of  nature,  even  when  his  effort  is  of  the  imagina- 
tion ?  And,  second,  has  he  made  a  judicious  selection  and  skil- 
ful combination  of  his  material." 

After  several  pages  of  the  large  ledger  have  been  devoted  to 
this  subject,  there  follows  this  entry  : 

"  July  4. — The  difference  between  Scott  and  Shakspere  is  of 
two  kinds  :  (1)  the  difference  of  dramatic  and  prosaic  descrip- 
tion, and  (2)  the  native  difference  of  the  two  men.  The  first 
involves  a  discussion  and  comparison  of  the  two  kinds  of 
writing.  The  dramatic  is  narrower,  more  formal  and  measured, 
and  consequently  more  stiff.  No  one  ever  heard  one  speak 
as  Macbeth,  as  Hamlet,  or  as  Iago,  for  no  one  ever  spoke  so. 
Passion,  or  indeed  nature,  never  marches  in  heroic  measure.  In 
another  respect  it  differs.  There  is  a  general  sameness  of  lan- 
guage. The  imitation  of  nature  respects  feelings  and  charac- 
ter, and  not  expression,  if  we  except  some  comic  characters.  But 
prose  imitates  with  perfect  freedom,  unshackled  by  verse,  not  only 
the  passion,  character,  etc.,  but  the  expression  and  language. 

"  In  this  respect  Scott  differs  from  himself  as  a  poet  and  nov- 
elist as  much  as  when  a  novelist  he  differs  from  Shakspere, 
etc.  ..." 

Similar  and  lengthy  criticisms  of  Crabbe,  Coleridge,  Byron, 
Burns,  and  others  follow,  many  of  them  crude,  but  all  aiming  to 
grasp  and  express  the  original  thought  of  the  poet,  as  he  says 
after  naming  some  rules  by  which  to  judge  a  book  : 

"  But  such  things  are  the  externals  of  criticism.  I  admire 
the  German  way  of  going  into  the  motive  and  spirit  of  a  poem, 
and  discussing  the  principles  and  source  of  feeling." 

We  find  his  habit  of  drawing  from  his  own  experiences  some 
moral  or  spiritual  lesson,  and  then  teaching  it  to  others,  thus  early 
formed  : 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  HE  EC  HER.  \  .\j 

"June  2-j,  1S35. —  .  .  .  Being  unwell  is  by  no  means  useless. 
li  crowds  one  on  to  thoughts   of  death,  and   sweeps   away  all    the 

mist  of  forgetfulness  which  the  frivolity  of  events  has  accumu- 
lated. One  must  either  wrap  himself  in  designed  forgetfulness — 
which  is  a  stupid  resource — or  come  to  some  conclusion  in  re- 
spect to  his  religious  prospects.  For  my  part,  in  sickness  (what 
little  1  have  had)  I  am  not  agitated,  but  rendered  serious  and 
calmly  apprehensive,  and  I  begin  to  think  what  God  is,  and 
Christ,  and  heavenly  joy,  and  compare  them  with  my  tastes  and 
disposition,  and  see  if  they  accord  or  are  repulsive.  I've  written 
enough  for  the  present,  so  I'll  return  to  Scott's  '  Legend  of  Mont- 
rose.' " 

We  find  very  little,  almost  nothing,  concerning  the  regulation 
work  and  studies  of  the  theological  course,  possibly  because 
some  other  book  which  has  not  come  down  to  us  contained 
these.  He  seems  to  have  plenty  to  do,  and  carries  into  his  work 
a  very  decided  determination  to  succeed. 

"Aug.  2,  1835,  Sunday. — I  have  for  this  time  work  enough  : 
two  courses  of  lectures — one,  for  my  Bible-class,  to  begin  next 
Sunday ;  the  other  a  course  of  temperance  lectures  for  Reading 
and  elsewhere.  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  succeed,  but  I  am 
never  self-distrustful  and  often  feel  sure  I  shall  do  very  well,  and 
as  often  see  that  I  may  fall  through  entirely.  Either  course  fail- 
ing would  mortify  me.  But  here,  as  elsewhere,  let  me  start  with 
feeling,  'I  will  persevere,  and  with  every  endeavor  which  interest 
and  ingenuity  can  furnish.'  Such  being  one's  constant  feeling 
and  action,  hardly  anything  is  invincible.  Perseverance  without 
corresponding  exercise  of  all  one's  mind  is  but  a  dogged  spin- 
ning out  of  tedious  and  useless  effort.  Re7nember  when  most  dis- 
couraged to  labor  as  though  you  were  in  the  full  blossom  of  Hope, 
and  shortly  you  will  be." 

At  this  time  he  was  singing  in,  and  sometimes  leading,  the 
choir  in  his  father's  church,  as  he  writes  : 

"  Nov.  14. — The  medical  authorities  of  the  family,  having  or- 
dered me  up  for  inspection,  have  decided  that  I  was  not  sea- 
worthy, but  have,  in  view  of  past  services,  ordered  me  into 
dock  to  be  a  receiving-ship,  and  there  to  undergo  thorough  re- 
pairs. I  am  quietly  riding  in  the  dock  without  mast  or  rigging. 
They  have  sent  aboard  two  sets  of  workmen  this  morning,  under 
the  care  of  Messrs.  Calomel  and  Aloes  ;  and  these  are  to  remove 


148  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

all  my  cargo,  ballast,  etc.,  after  which  I  am  to  be  new-rigged  and 
furnished  and  sent  out  on  a  new  cruise.  This  is  well.  I  have 
sailed  very  dully  for  some  time  and  came  near  to  foundering  once 
or  twice. 

"  Will  you  take  my  place  to-day  and  sing  bass?  I  know  of  no 
one  possessing  suitable  gravity  except  yourself  to  confront  the 
audience  and  do  justice  to  music.  .  .  .  Yours  truly, 

"'Old  Constitution:  " 

A  line  of  tender  sentiment  runs  through  the  journal,  appear- 
ing whenever  any  reference  is  made  to  the  one  to  whom  he  was 
engaged.  Concerning  so  delicate  a  matter  we  only  give  extracts 
sufficient  to  show  the  radiant  atmosphere  in  which,  at  least  at 
times,  he  walked,  and  the  deep  and  sincere  affection  which  he 
cherished.  They  are  to  be  read  as  the  opening  stanzas  of  that 
beautiful  idyl  that  closed  only  with  his  life. 

"  Aug.  4,  1835. — It  is  a  little  curious,  perhaps  not,  however, 
that  I  very  much  dislike  to  say  anything  in  my  journal  of  my 
thoughts  and  feeling  for  E.,  who  is  so  much  of  my  existence. 
Well,  I  suppose  the  more  and  the  more  delicately  we  love  the 
less  we  care  and  wish  to  say  about  it.  It  becomes  a  matter  of 
heart,  not  of  tongue  ;  it  becomes  a  feeling,  and  feeling  has  no  lan- 
guage except  action.  I  have  sent  her  a  large  letter,  largely  laden 
with  affection.  ..." 

"Aug.  5,   1835. — Woke   up  and  thought  of    E ,    M , 

and    G ;  compared  their    characters.     M is  marked    by 

intellect,    G by   lady-like  character,   sweetness,  and  gay- 

ness.     E has  neither  so  prominent,  but  both  well  combined 

and  softened  by  strongest  and  sweetest  affectionateness.  Her 
character  is  uniform,  and  projects,  if  anywhere,  in  line  of  affec- 
tion." 

"  Sept.  14,  1835. — I  wonder  what  people  think  of  my  warmth  ? 
Some,  I  know,  estimate  it  far  too  highly,  because  they  have  not 
seen  much  of  such  things.  Others,  and  most,  suppose  it  very  low 
and  suspect  very  little  of  it.     It  is  in  truth  but  ?nedium  naturally. 

Well,  in  a  year  or  two,  and  then  E will  be  disappointed  the 

right    way.     What    a   noble    creature    E is !     I   could    have 

looked  through  ten  thousand  and  never  have  found  one  so  every 
way  suited  to  me.  How  dearly  do  I  love  her  !  I  long  for  the 
portrait." 

"Oct.  t,  1835. — Found  a  packet  of  letters  from  my  dearest 


KE  V.  HENR  Y   ll'.lfi/'  BEE  CHER. 


K .     Oh,  how  dear!     Her  likeness  too,  which,  though  imper- 
ii] some  respects,  has  very  much  the  looks  of  the  original, 

and   it'  only  one  feature  were   preserved  I   would  feel   grateful 

But,  excepting  the  mouth,  each  feature  is  faithfully  like  her  own. 
1  shall  begin  a  letter  to  her  to-night.  God  bless  and  keep  her! 
1  love  her  more  and  more  and  Nay  less  and  less  about  it. 

"'  Harriet  has   had  E 's   portrait   all   day,  and    I    have  felt 

(mite  lonesome  without  it.  Last  evening  I  retired  to  bed  and 
very  philosophically  decided  to  leave  the  portrait  in  my  side- 
pocket.  I  lay  for  some  half-hour  and  was  quite  convinced  that 
it  was  in  the  wrong  place,  and  removed  it  to  my  pillow.  It  soon 
underwent  another  migration — 7c>here,  one  may  imagine  if  he  will 
recall  all  such  doings  as  depicted  in  novels." 

The  following  is  his  first  mention  of  preaching  in  the  West  : 

uAug.  9,  Sunday,  1835. — Preached  twice  in  George's  church. 
In  morning  with  great  dryness  and  trouble,  and  felt  much  morti- 
fied— more,  I  think,  than  grieved. 

"  Afternoon  smaller  audience,  but  had  great  liberty  and  flu- 
ency, and  produced  effect ;  but  whether  superficial  or  perma- 
nent and  saving,  God  only  knows.  Afternoon  text  :  '  My  ways 
not  as  your  ways';  Morning:  'For  we  thus  judge'  (2  Cor.  v. 
14,  etc.) 

"  After  preliminaries,  subject,  '  The  genius  of  Christianity  is 
not  to  produce  g/oom  or  debar  from  pleasure ;  but,  contrary, 
earthly  pleasures  can  only  be  enjoyed  by  Christians,  and  much 
more  heavenly.''  " 

He  begins  to  be  conscious  of  unused  powers. 

"  Sept.,  1835. — Since  reading  Crabbe  and  Scott  I  am  possessed 
with  the  notion  of  writing  characters.  I  have  some  models  which 
I  know  would  be  originals." 

His  love  of  fun  evidently  subjected  him  now  and  then  to 
criticism.  To  one  whose  remarks  had  touched  him  to  the  quick 
he  writes  in  self-defence  : 

"  Oct.  29  [1835]. — .  .  .  You  said  last  night  that  I  was  never 
made  for  a  minister.  If  a  minister  were  made  to  wear  a  lachry- 
mose face  and  never  to  enjoy  or  make  mirth,  you  said  truly  and 
I  was  not  born  to  it.  There  are,  in  fact,  three  classes  of  divines 
— the  ascetic,  the  neuter,  and  the  sunshiny  ;  the  first  conceive  the 
chief  end  of  man  to  consist  in  a  long  face,  upturned  eyes,  a  pro- 
found sanctimonious  look.   ...  I  must  plead  guilty  if  you  mean 


I  50  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

that  I  was  not  born  to  the  rank  of  these  worthy  personages.  Far 
be  it  from  me  to  believe  that  religion  makes  ridiculous  dunces. 
And  though  I  think  many  such  are  truly  pious  men,  yet  such  en- 
dowments are  the  deformity  and  misfortune,  not  the  ornament, 
of  their  piety.  The  second  class  I  call  neuter  because  they  (like 
the  Chinese  leaf  by  which  character  is  told)  quirl  and  roll  just 
according  to  the  party  with  which  they  are.  ...  I  must  confess 
I  have  too  many  opinions  of  my  own  to  be  whirled  about  by  every 
change  of  company.  And  though  it  is  proper  and  decent  that 
one  should  conform  to  the  nature  of  different  occasions,  so  as  not 
to  jest  at  a  funeral,  laugh  at  church,  or  dance  in  a  hospital  among 
the  sick,  the  dead  and  dying  ;  and  though  one  should  respect  the 
conditions  of  his  company,  so  as  not  to  obtrude  upon  age  the 
buoyancy  of  youth,  .  .  .  yet  I  am  sure  neither  old  age  nor  old 
reflections  .  .  .  shall  make  me  disown  mirth.  .  .  .  Now  for  the 
third  class,  the  glorious,  sunshiny  ones.  I  envy  them,  I  emulate 
them.  These  are  they  who  think  there  is  a  time  for  relaxation 
and  elegant  enjoyment.  Too  much  is  to  be  done  to  allow  them 
long  seasons  of  gayety.  .  .  .  But  while  they  labor  hard,  think  and 
write,  and  preach  and  visit,  weeping  with  those  who  weep,  they 
conceive  by  the  same  authority  that  they  may  unbend  and  re- 
fresh the  mind  by  laughing' with  those  who  laugh.  .  .  .  To  be 
mirthful  is  part  of  our  constitution,  and  I  believe  God  never  gave 
us  that  which  it  is  a  sin  to  exercise.  .  .  .  None  but  those  who 
feel  it  can  tell  how  hard  it  is  to  restrain  a  disposition  which  sees 
everything  in  the  most  ludicrous  point  of  view.  But  God  knows 
that  if  I  have  a  good  deal  of  mirth  I  compensate  for  it  in  secret ; 
and  although  now  I  look  for  different  times,  yet  till  now  I  have 
had  enough  of  anything  but  joy  to  make  mirth  acceptable  to  me. 
You  said  what  you  did  in  jest,  but  I  lay  awake  all  night  think- 
ing of  it.  God  will  bear  me  witness  that  I  love  the  ministry,  and 
if  it  be  necessary  for  me  to  lay  aside  even  my  constitutional 
gayety  that  I  may  be  more  useful,  I  will  cheerfully  do  it.  .  .  ." 

From  a  "  catalogue  of  books  in  my  possession  "  we  learn  that 
on  December  2,  1835,  he  had  42  volumes  of  theological  works,  71 
volumes  of  literary,  10  scientific,  and  12  miscellaneous,  making  a 
grand  total  in  all  of  135  volumes — not  a  bad  showing  for  one 
who  had  earned  every  book,  either  by  labor  or  severe  economy, 
and,  what  is  more  to  the  point,  had  read  and  studied  them  all. 

We  must  now  turn  from  the  perusal  of  his  journal  to  note 


RE  I '.  HENR  )    11  'A  RD  BEEi  'HER,  I  5  1 

other  influences  than  those  already  referred  to — those  of  the  Semi- 
nary, of  home  and  books — that  were  at  work  upon  him  at  this  time. 

There  were  some  that  had  a  very  important  influence  m  shaping 
his  ecclesiastical  bearing  through  life. 

These  were  days  of  heresy-hunting  ;  days  when  Albert  Barnes 
was  arraigned  before  presbytery  for  unsoundness  because  of 
some  kind  of  heterodoxy  (?)  discovered  in  his  notes  upon  Romans, 
and  when  the  conflict  between  the  two  parties  in  the  Presbyte- 
rian Church  was  rapidly  advancing  to  a  division  of  that  great 
bod\-  into  Old  and  New  School.  "  l>r.  Beecher,"  so  writes  Mrs. 
Stowe,  "  was  now  the  central  point  of  a  great  theological  battle. 
It  was  a  sort  of  spiritual  Armageddon,  being  the  confluence  of 
the  forces  of  the  Scotch-Irish  Presbyterian  Calvinistic  fatalism, 
meeting  in  battle  with  the  advancing  rationalism  of  New  England 
New  School  theology.  On  one  side  was  hard,  literal  interpreta- 
tion of  Bible  declarations  and  the  Presbyterian  standards  assert- 
ing man's  utter  and  absolute  natural  and  moral  inability  to  obey 
God's  commands,  and  on  the  other  side  the  doctrine  of  man's  free 
agency  and  the  bringing  to  the  rendering  of  the  declarations  of 
the  Scriptures  and  of  the  standards  the  lights  of  modern  modes 
of  interpretation."  This  battle  soon  assumed  the  character  of  an 
assault  upon  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  for  the  purpose  of  his  destruc- 
tion. His  son  knew  it  to  be  wholly  without  justification  and  as 
senseless  as  it  was  wicked.  He  knew  his  father's  earnestness,  de- 
votion, and  unselfishness,  the  sacrifices  he  had  made  to  take  up 
this  work,  felt  how  greatly  he  deserved  the  gratitude  of  all 
Christian  men  ;  and  when  he  saw  that  father  attacked  for  heresy 
and  brought  before  every  tribunal  of  the  Presbyterian  Church, 
except  the  highest,  for  trial,  and  all  because  his  construction  of 
the  Presbyterian  Confession  was  not  according  to  the  views  of 
one  or  two  of  the  leaders  of  that  Church  in  the  West,  he  was  not 
more   indignant  than  disgusted. 

He  saw  him  triumphantly  acquitted  by  one  body  after  an- 
other, but  still  pursued  by  suspicion,  and  knew  that  a  conspiracy 
had  been  formed  in  which  some  of  his  Eastern  friends  and  one 
or  more  Eastern  seminaries  were  enlisted,  with  the  avowed  in- 
tention of  crushing  him,  and  all  this  mostly  by  good  men,  under 
the  strong  bias  of  ecclesiastical  prejudice  and  in  a  mistaken  zeal 
for  God's  service. 

We  must   feel  his  disgust  as  he  was  compelled  to  go  scurrying 


I52  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

through  the  country,  not  to  rescue  souls  from  danger  nor  to  for- 
ward any  great  moral  end,  but  to  anticipate  the  action  of  some 
presbytery  or  arrange  for  some  meeting  of  synod  ;  we  must  real- 
ize his  indignation  at  seeing  his  father  compelled  to  leave  the 
death-bed  of  his  mother  to  defend  himself  against  these  heresy- 
hunters,  if  we  would  understand  the  position  which  Mr.  Beecher 
occupied  towards  ecclesiastical  bodies  in  after-years. 

In  a  letter  dated  "  Canal  Boat,  Wednesday  morning,  Oct.  14, 
1S35,"  Henry  Ward  gives  an  account  of  a  meeting  of  Synod. 
After  a  humorous  description  of  the  eccentricities  of  Dr.  Beecher, 
for  which  we  have  no  space,  he  writes  :  "  At  length  we  are  ready 
to  start.  A  trunk  tumbles  out  of  one  side  as  Thomas  tumbles  in 
the  other.  I  reverse  the  order — tumble  Tom  out,  the  trunk  in. 
At  length  all  are  aboard,  and  father  drives  out  of  the  yard,  hold- 
ing the  reins  in  one  hand,  shaking  hands  with  a  student  with  the 
other,  giving  Charles  directions  with  his  mouth — at  least  that  part 
not  occupied  with  an  apple  ;  for  since  apples  were  plenty  he  has 
made  it  a  practice  to  drive  with  one  rein  in  the  right  hand  and 
the  other  in  the  left,  with  an  apple  in  each,  biting  them  alter- 
nately, thus  raising  and  lowering  the  reins  like  threads  on  a  loom. 
Away  we  go,  Charley  horse  on  a  full  canter  down  the  long  hill, 
the  carriage  bouncing  and  bounding  over  the  stones,  father  alter- 
nately  telling  Tom  how  to  get  the  harness  mended  and  showing 
me  the  true  doctrine  of  original  sin.  Hurrah  !  we  thunder  along- 
side the  boat  just  in  time.  .  .  .  Yesterday  the  Synod  was  consti- 
tuted Old  School.  Moderator  by  a  majority  of  seven,  under  his 
administration  the  system  is  beginning  to  assume  form  and  be- 
comes apparent.  All  the  committees  are  one  way,  and  the  whole 
aspect  of  affairs  shows  you  that  there  is  a  deep-laid,  regular  plan, 
and  the  elders  are  all  drilled  in.  The  committee  give  leave  of  ab- 
sence to  all  New  School  men,  and  refuse  all  others,  so  that  they 
may  increase  and  we  decrease. 

"  It  is  Tuesday  morning  and  everybody  is  talking,  planning, 
plotting — all  bustle  ;  heads  together  ;  knots  at  every  corner  ; 
hands  going  up  and  down,  and  faces  approaching  earnestly  or 
drawing  back  in  doubt  ;  one  taking  hold  of  the  other's  coat,  lead- 
ing off  into  one  corner  for  a  particular  argument ;  elders  receiv- 
ing drill,  some  bolting  the  collar.  Here,  in  my  room,  are  father, 
George,  and  Mr.  Rankin.  They  are  looking  over  the  ground, 
prognosticating,  arranging  for  the  onset,  or  for  the  reception  of 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER. 

an  onset  ...   I  nevei  saw  so  many  faces  of  clergymen,  and  so 

few  of  them  intellectual  faces \nd  the  elders  arc  just  what 

forty  or  fifty  common  farmers  would  be  supposed  to  be — except 

that  for  eldership  the  soberest  men  are  chosen*  and,  as  stupidity  is 
usually  graced  with  more  gravity  than  great  good  sense,  the  body  of 
ciders  arc  not  quite  SO  acute  in  luok  as  the  higher  class  of  work- 
ingmen." 

Although  written  in  a  playful  mood,  it  is  evident  that  he  had 
no  fancy  for  such  work,  and  as  he  advanced  his  dislike  increased. 
The  broad,  kindly,  hospitable  living,  the  strong,  practical,  sympa- 
thetic preaching,  and  the  honest  dislike  of  all  the  rattle  of  eccle- 
siastical machinery,  which  marked  his  after-life,  came  naturally 
from  the  training  he  received  on  the  outside  of  Lane  Seminary. 
The  influences  of  the  place  in  which  he  lived  as  well  as  of 
the  times  were  powerful  factors  in  his  theological  education. 
The  great  West,  with  its  boundless  possibilities  which  had  so 
moved  the  spirit  of  his  father,  lay  before  him,  and  stirred 
his  imagination  as  at  an  earlier  period  the  sea  had  done.  And, 
as  when  he  looked  out  upon  the  broad  Atlantic  from  the 
wharves  of  Boston  he  had  felt  the  impulse  to  go  forth  to 
be  a  sailor,  command  ships,  and  fight  naval  battles,  so  did 
the  movement  of  the  great,  streams  of  population  Westward,  and 
the  vast  field  that  stretched  out  before  him  like  the  ocean, 
,  move  his  spirit  to  go  forth  upon  the  sea  of  human  life  and  con- 
quer for  Christ. 

In  this  period  of  theological  study,  when  the  most  of  students 
withdraw  themselves  as  much  as  possible  from  real  life,  he  was 
brought  to  face  it  in  some  of  its  most  intense  forms.  Cincinnati 
was  then  the  central  and  most  important  city  of  the  great  West ; 
an  immense  commerce  was  carried  on  from  its  wharves  ;  it  was 
the  point  where  gathered  the  multitudes  that  were  going  out  to 
occupy  the  new- territory ;  it  wras  still  the  rendezvous  for  fron- 
tiersmen ;  more  than  this,  it  lay  upon  the  border-land  between 
'  the  free  and  slave  States,  and  already  felt  the  uneasiness  and  bit- 
terness of  the  irresistible  conflict.  Chain-gangs  of  slaves  were 
continually  passing  on  the  decks  of  the  steamboats,  to  be  sold 
down  South,  and  fugitives  from  bondage  were  keeping  the  sym- 
pathy or  the  hatred  of  the  people  in  continual  activity.  Life 
of  high  pressure  and  in  great  variety  wras  presented  to  Henry 
Ward  Beecher  there  in  the  heart  of  the  great  West  in  the  years 


154  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

of  1 834-1 837  ;  life  that  was  very  real,  and  that  called  not  so 
much  for  fine-spun  theories  as  for  practical  forces  ;  not  for  dead 
and  formal  dogmas,  but  for  living  truth,  for  Him  who  is  both 
Life  and  Truth. 

True,  he  might  have  measurably  kept  himself  from  it  and  im- 
mured himself  in  the  library  and  class-rooms  of  the  Seminary,  but 
he  followed  an  entirely  opposite  course  ;  he  lectured,  wrote  anti- 
slavery  editorials,  joined  the  citizens'  body  of  police  for  the  pre- 
servation of  order,  every  way  keeping  himself  in  sympathy  with 
the  stirring  times  in  which  he  lived,  and  they  helped  to  make 
him  the  living,  practical  preacher  he  afterwards  became. 

His  Bible-class,  to  which  he  gave  great  attention,  both  in 
preparation  and  in  teaching  the  lesson,  afforded  him  a  field  for  the 
application  of  the  truths  he  had  learned,  and  for  testing  the 
methods  he  had  adopted. 

Yet  for  the  most  of  the  time  his  mind  was  not  settled.  His  ideal 
of  the  Christian  ministry  was  so  high  that  he  sometimes  despaired 
of  ever  attaining  it,  and  at  times  he  seems  to  have  seriously  con- 
templated giving  up  his  preparation  for  the  ministry  and  of  de- 
voting himself  to  some  other  pursuit.  Mrs.  Beech er  says  that 
through  these  years  his  letters  were  very  full  of  the  discomforts  and 
doubts  that  troubled  him.  "  .  .  .  Sometimes  I  think  I  shall  not 
succeed  in  anything.  If,  when  my  course  here  is  finished,  they 
will  not  license  me,  suppose  I  go  far  West,  enter  a  homestead  (?), 
clear  the  wood  off,  build  a  little  log  hut,  work  during  the  week, 
and  hunt  up  the  settlers  and  hold  conference  and  prayer  meetings 
— will  you  come  to  me  if  that  is  all  I  can  offer  you  ?  "  Then, 
perhaps,  in  the  next  letter  :  "  I  will  preach,  if  it  is  in  the  by- 
ways and  hedges  ;  but  oh  !  for  more  light  to  see  my  way  clear  !  " 
"  During  the  last  two  years  his  letters  had  less  of  this  depression. 
He  would  preach,  whether  men  would  hear  or  whether  they 
would  forbear."  "  But  I  must  preach  the  Gospel  as  it  is  re- 
vealed to  me,  not  as  it  is  laid  down  in  the  schools." 

He  gives  his  experience  in  these  words : 

<;  During  the  latter  part  of  my  stay  in  college  my  feelings  were 
unsettled.  Sometimes  they  inclined  one  way  and  sometimes  the 
other,  until  I  went  to  Lane  Seminary.  I  was  then  twenty  years 
old,  and  there  came  a  great  revulsion  in  me  from  all  this  inchoate, 
unregulated,  undirected  experience  in  religion.  My  mind  took 
one  tremendous  spring  over  into  scepticism,  and   I  said  :   '  I  have 


A'/-  l '.  HENR  Y  WARD  BEEi  HE  A' 


'55 


been  a  tool  long  enough.'    1  refused  to  be  any  longer  played  upon 

in  such  a  way.  It  was  hitter,  it  was  malignant,  it  was  sad,  it  was 
sorrowful;  but  it  was  wholesale,  and  swept  away  ten  thousand  fic- 
tions and  external  observances.  I  said  :  4 1  will  not  stir  one  step 
further  than  1  can  see  my  way,  and  I  will  not  stand  a  moment 
where  I  cannot  see  the  truth.  I  will  have  something  that  is 
sure  and  steadfast.'  Having  taken  that  ground,  I  was  in  that 
state  of  mind  for  the  larger  part  of   two  years. 

"  It  then  pleased  God  to  lift  upon  me  such  a  view  of  Christ 
as  one  whose  nature  and  office  it  is  to  have  infinite  and  exquisite 
pity  upon  the  weakness  and  want  of  sinners  as  I   had  never  had 
before.     I  saw  that  He  had  compassion  upon  them  because  they 
were  sinners,  and  because  He  wanted  to  help  them  out  of  their 
sins.     It  came  to  me  like  the  bursting  forth  of  spring.     It  was  as 
if  yesterday  there  was  not  a  bird  to  be  seen  or  heard,  and   as   if 
to-day  the  woods  were   full   of   singing  birds.      There   rose    up 
before  me  a  view  of  Jesus   as   the   Saviour  of  sinners — not  of 
saints,  but  of  sinners  unconverted,  before  they  were  any  better — 
because  they  were  so  bad  and  needed   so   much  ;  and  that  view 
has  never  gone  from   me.      It   did  not   at    first    fill    the    whole 
heaven  ;  it  came  as  a  rift  along   the   horizon  ;  gradually,  little  by 
little,  the  cloud  rolled  up.     It  was  three  years   before  the  whole 
sky  was  cleared  so   that   I   could  see  all  around,  but  from  that 
hour  I  felt  that  God  had  a  father's  heart ;  that  Christ  loved  me  in 
my  sin  ;  that  while  I  was  a  sinner  He  did  not  frown  upon  me  nor 
cast  me  off,  but  cared  for  me  with   unutterable  tenderness,   and 
would  help  me  out  of  sin  ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  every- 
thing I  needed.     When  that  vision   was  vouchsafed  to  me  I  felt 
that  there  was  no  more  for  me  to  do  but  to  love,  trust,  and  adore  ; 
nor  has  there  ever  been   in   my  mind  a  doubt  since  that  I  did 
love,  trust,   and   adore.     There  has  been  an  imperfect  compre- 
hension, there   have   been  grievous    sins,  there  have  been    long 
defections  ;  but  never   for  a  single  moment  have  I  doubted  the 
power  of  Christ's  love  to  save  me,  any  more  than  I  have  doubted 
the  existence  in  the  heaven  of  the  sun  by  day  and  the  moon  by 
night." 

We  have  thus  followed  Henry  Ward  Beecher  from  the  cradle 
to  the  moment  that  he  stands  prepared  to  enter  upon  his  life- 
work  ;  have  noted  every  step  of  his  course  from  the  hills  to  the 
sea,  from   school   to  college,  from  the  East   to  the  West  ;  have 


I56  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER. 

marked  the  influences  of  the  home,  of  nature,  of  the  city,  of 
school,  college,  and  seminary,  of  the  times,  of  the  Word  and 
Spirit  of  God  ;  have  traced  his  experiences,  felt  his  dawning 
strength,  examined  the  life  he  lived,  the  dispositions  he  mani- 
fested, the  hopes  he  cherished,  and  the  character  he  formed  ; 
and  in  our  confidence  and  admiration  choose,  as  not  inappropri- 
ate for  him  at  this  time,  the  description  of  "  The  Patrone  of  true 
Holinesse  "  in  the  "  Faerie  Queene  "  : 

"  Full  iolly  knight  he  seemed,  and  faire  did  sitt, 
As  one  for  knightly  giusts  and  fierce  encounters  fitt ; 
And  on  his  brest  a  bloodie  crosse  he  bore, 
The  deare  remembrance  of  his  dying  Lord, 
For  whose  sweete  sake  that  glorious  badge  he  wore, 
And  dead,  as  living  ever,  Him  ador'd  : 
Upon  bis  shield  the  like  was  also  scor'd, 
For  soveraine  hope,  which  in   His  helpe  he  had, 
Right  faithfull  true  he  was  in  deede  and  word  ; 
But  of  his  cheere  did  seeme  too  solemne  sad  ; 
Yet  nothing  did  he  dread,  but  ever  was  ydrad." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Call  to  Preach — License — Examination  by  Miami  Presbytery — Refusal  to 
Subscribe  to  Old  School — Ordination  by  Oxford  Presbytery — Visit 
East — Marriage — Housekeeping. 

IN  the  early  spring  of  1837  Mr.  Beecher  graduated  from  Lane 
Seminary.  In  accordance  with  the  practice  of  the  Presby- 
terian Church,  a  clergyman  might  be  licensed  to  preach, 
even  though  not  ordained  ;  but  such  license  could  only  be  ob- 
tained after  the  applicant  had  appeared  before  the  Presbytery 
for  examination,  and  he  was  required  also  to  read  a  "  trial  lec- 
ture," as  it  was  called.  Agreeably  to  this  custom,  upon  graduat- 
ing from  the  Seminary  Mr.  Beecher  went  before  the  Cincinnati 
Presbytery,  was  examined,  and  read  his  "trial  lecture."  The  ex- 
amination and  lecture  seem  to  have  been  satisfactory,  for  he  was 
duly  licensed  to  preach. 

For  a  few  weeks  prior  to  his  examination  for  license  he 
preached  in  a  little  hall  at  Covington,  Kentucky,  just  across  the 
river  from  Cincinnati.  He  seriously  contemplated  settling  there 
as  soon  as  he  should  be  licensed. 

"After  preaching  there  [Covington]  three  or  four  Sundays  I 
was  called,  by  Martha  Sawyer,  a  Yankee  woman,  to  go  to  Law- 
renceburg  and  preach.  There  was  a  church  in  that  place,  com- 
posed of  about  twenty  members,  of  which  she  was  the  factotum. 
She  collected  the  money,  she  was  the  treasurer,  she  was  the  man- 
ager, she  was  the  trustee,  she  was  the  everything  of  that  church." 

At  this  time  the  pulpit  of  the  little,  struggling  Presbyterian 
church  at  Lawrenceburg,  Indiana,  was  vacant,  and  one  of  the 
ladies  of  that  church  came  up  to  Cincinnati  to  see  if  Bishop  Little 
could  not  secure  for  them  a  pastor.  The  good  bishop  introduced 
her  to  young  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  This  led  to  his  preaching 
one  or  two  trial  sermons  at  Lawrenceburg.  The  result  of  the 
experiment  seemed  to  be  satisfactory  on  both  sides,  although  the 
first  sermon  was  said  to  have  been  a  lamentable  failure  through 
the  nervous  apprehensions  of  the  young  preacher  in  facing  the 
unusually  large  audience  of  one  hundred  persons. 

157 


I  5  8  BIOGRAPH  Y  OF 

In  May,  1837,  he  moved  to  Lawrenceburg  and  began 
preaching  regularly  as  a  licentiate,  not  yet  ordained. 

It  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  read  just  here  the  brief  memo- 
randa from  the  journal  which  he  was  keeping  then  : 

"May  4  [1837]. — Returned  from  Lawrenceburg.  I  think 
seriously  of  settling  there — a  destitute  place  indeed.  .  .  . 

"  If  I  go  to  Lawrenceburg,  remember  you  can  gain  men 
easily  if  you  get  round  their  prejudices  and  put  truth  in  their 
minds;  but  never  if  you  attack  prejudices.    Look  well  at  this.  .  .  . 

"  Mem. — My  people  must  be  alert  to  make  the  church  agree- 
able, to  give  seats  and  wait  on  strangers,  etc." 

"June  15,  Thursday. — To-day  received  call  from  Lawrence- 
burg, and  a  very  flattering  call  it  was  and  did  my  heart  good. 
Meeting  called  June  12,  1837  ;  about  30  persons  present.  Mr. 
Hunt,  moderator  ;  D.  S.  Mayer,  sec.  Vote  for  me  unanimous. 
Blank  filled  for  $250,  with  but  one  dissenting  voice  (he  voting 
for  double  that    sum)." 

"Monday,  July  10. — Sat.  eve.,  8th,  arrived  here  permanently 
to  remain.  .  .  . 

"  I  mean  to  write  down  little  plans  and  devices  for  pastoral 
labor  as  they  occur ;  I  may  else  forget  them. 

"  1.  In  different  districts  get  men  quietly  to  feel  themselves  re- 
sponsible for  progress  of  temperance  or  Sunday-schools. 

"  2.  Quietly  to  visit  from  house  to  house  and  secure  congre- 
gations. 

"  3.  Secure  a  large  congregation.  Let  this  be  the  jirst  thing. 
For  this — 

"  1.  Preach  well  uniformly. 

"  2.  Visit  widely  and  produce  a  personal  attachment;  also 

wife  do  same. 
"  3.  Get  the  young  to  love  me. 

"4.  See  that  the  church  have  this  presented  as  a  dejinite 
thing,  and  set  them  to  this  work  just  as  directly  as  I 
would  to  raising  a  fund,  building,  etc. 

"4.  Little  girls'  societies  for  benevolent  purposes." 

The  town  was  small,  scarce  fifteen  hundred  inhabitants,  locat- 
ed at  the  junction  of  the  Ohio  and  Miami  rivers — just  across 
the  Miami  from  Ohio  on  the  east,  and  the  Ohio  River  from 
Kentucky  on  the  south — subject  to  devastating  floods  from  both 
rivers  impartially. 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  159 

The  church  was  small,  with  meagre  a<  commodations,  the 
people    poor.       We    quote    his   description   of    the   place    and 

church  : 

"You  can  form  some  conception  of  that  field  when  I  tell 
you  that  it  was  a  place  where  they  had  four  gigantic  distil- 
leries, from  which  was  carried  to  market  a  steamboat-load  of 
liquor  every  day.  When  1  went  there  and  entered  upon  my 
vocation  of  preaching,  I  found  a  church,  occupying  a  little 
brick  building,  with  nineteen  or  twenty  members.  There  was 
one  man,  and  the  rest  were  women.  With  the  exception  of  two 
persons,  there  was  not  one  of  them  who  was  not  obliged  to 
gain  a  livelihood  by  the  labor  of  the  hands.  So  you  will 
understand  how  very  poor  they  were.  I  could  not,  of  course, 
obtain  my  living  in  so  small  a  church,  and  in  a  community  that 
was  not  overblessed  with  wealth.  I  was  taken  up,  therefore, 
as  a  pensioner  by  the  Home  Missionary  Society,  and  my  first 
two  years  were  spent  in  the  field  as  a  missionary,  in  part  sup- 
ported by  the  funds  of  this  society. 

" 1  was  sexton  in  the  church.  There  were  no  lamps  there, 
so  I  went  and  bought  some,  and  filled  them  and  lit  them.  I 
swept  the  church  and  lighted  my  own  fires.  I  did  not  ring  the 
bell,  because  there  was  none.  I  opened  the  church  before  every 
meeting,  and  shut  and  locked  it  after  every  meeting.  I  took  care 
of  everything  in  the  church." 

Here  in  this  little  frontier  village,  then  upon  the  very  bor- 
ders of  civilization,  began  his  real  work.  For  twenty-four  years 
he  had  been  preparing  for  this  step.  Now  it  must  be  determined 
whether  his  life  should  be  a  success  or  a  failure. 

The  year  passed  uneventfully,  and  it  was  not  until  September, 
1838,  when  he  applied  for  ordination,  that  he  got  his  first  taste  of 
trouble. 

At  this  time  the  division  between  the  Old  School  and  the  New 
School  Presbyterian  churches  was  about  to  take  place,  and  two 
General  Assemblies,  afterwards  called  the  Old  School  General 
Assembly  and  the  New  School  General  Assembly,  were,  a  short 
time  later,  convened  in  Philadelphia.  A  resolution  was  intro- 
duced into  the  Oxford  Presbytery  that  no  man  should  be  licensed 
or  ordained  by  that  body  who  did  not  connect  himself  with  the 
Old  School  Presbyterian  Church,  dropping  from  their  care  those 
who  declined  to  do  so. 


l6o  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

This  resolution,  it  was  thought,  was  probably  aimed  at  Mr. 
Beecher* — an  attempt  to  strike  the  father  over  the  shoulders  of 
his  son.  For  the  actual  division  and  separation  of  the  Presby- 
terian Church  into  Old  and  New  School  was  in  no  small  measure 
the  result  of  the  controversy  carried  on  for  several  years  pre- 
viously against  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher.  The  doctor  in  1832  had,  as 
we  have  seen,  accepted  the  presidency  and  professorship  of  doc- 
trinal theology  in  Lane  Seminary.  He  had  been  brought  up  in, 
and  had  been  connected  with,  the  Congregational  Church  until 
this  time.  While  he  entertained  no  revolutionary  spirit,  he  had 
some  expectation  that  the  free  spirit  of  New  England  thought, 
and  that  loving  spirit  of  voluntary  co-operation  which  he  had 
enjoyed  so  in  his  New  England  pastorate,  might  be  infused  into 
the  forms  of  Presbyterianism.  The  idea  of  an  intimate  friend- 
ship and  co-operation  between  the  Congregational  and  Presbvte- 
rian  churches  in  the  United  States  had  always  been  dear  to  him. 
But  when  he  went  to  Cincinnati  there  had  already  commenced 
in  different  quarters  a  movement  aiming  at  greater  stringency 
and  the  expulsion  from  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  what  was 
called  the  New  England  element,  of  which  Dr.  Beecher  was  an 
eminent  representative.  His  settlement  at  Lane  Seminary  was 
followed  by  a  more  active  demonstration  of  hostility.  Formal 
charges  of  heresy,  slander,  and  hypocrisy  were  preferred  against 
him,  to  which  reference  has  already  been  made. 

These  proceedings  produced  a  very  markedly  unfavorable 
impression  in  the  public  mind  against  Presbyterianism.  They 
had  only  ended  at  about  the  time  his  son,  Henry  Ward,  came 
to  Lawrenceburg. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  feeling  in  the  two  branches  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church,  and  when  Mr.  Beecher  applied  to  the  Ox- 
ford Presbytery,  within  whose  jurisdiction  Lawrenceburg  was 
located,  a  good  deal  of  interest  was  aroused.  A  son  of  Dr. 
Lyman  Beecher  was  to  be  examined  by  a  presbytery  known  to 
be  in  marked   hostility  to  him.     It  would  be  a  good  chance  to 


*  "  It  is  no  inconsiderable  matter  in  these  days  that  Dr.  Beecher  has  at 
least  one  son  who,  after  a  full  and  free  examination  before  the  Oxford 
Presbytery,  has  been  pronounced  to  be  orthodox  and  sound  in  the  faith  ; 
and  that,  in  order  to  exclude  the  son  of  the  arch-heretic,  a  new  term  of 
ministerial  communion  had  to  be  introduced"  (Extract  from  letter  of  Dr. 
Bishop,  President  of  Oxford  College,  to  Mr.  Beecher  in  1838). 


REV,  HENRY   WARD   BELCHER.  [6 1 

demonstrate  the  laxity  and  heterodoxy  of  Dr.  Beecher.     1": 
course,  the  young  man  would  only  reflect  the  father's  views. 

The  presbytery  duly  met  in  session  in  September,  [838,  and 
Henry   Ward   appeared    before   them.      Writing  to  his  brother 

George,  he  refers  to  his  examination.  After  telling  of  his  family 
affairs  he  sa\  s  : 

"So  much  for  family  news — a  quiet  lake;  now  for  public 
affairs — a  troubled  ocean  casting  up  mud  and  dirt. 

"  I  went  some  sixty  miles  up  into  Preble  County,  near  Eaton, 
before  Oxford  Presbytery.  Presented  my  papers.  Father 
Craigh  was  appointed  to  squeak  the  questions.  They  examined 
me  to  their  hearts'  content.  I  was  a  model  to  behold,  and  so  were 
they  !  Elders  opened  their  mouths,  gave  their  noses  a  fresh 
blowing,  fixed  their  spectacles,  and  hitched  forward  on  their 
>eats.  The  ministers  clinched  their  confessions  of  faith  with 
desperate  fervor  and  looked  unutterably  orthodox,  while  Gra- 
ham and  a  few  friendly  ones  looked  a  little  nervous,  not  knowing 
how  the  youth  would  stand  fire.  There  he  sat,  the  young  can- 
didate begotten  of  a  heretic,  nursed  at  Lane  ;  but,  with  such  a 
name  and  parentage  and  education,  what  remarkable  modesty, 
extraordinary  meekness,  and  how  deferential  to  the  eminently 
acute  questioners  who  sat  gazing  upon  the  prodigy  !  Certainly 
this  was  a  bad  beginning.  Having  predetermined  that  I  should 
be  hot  and  forward  and  full  of  confidence,  it  was  somewhat 
awkward,  truly,  to  find  such  gentleness  and  teachableness  ! 

"  Then  came  the  examination  :  '  Will  the  mon  tell  us  in  what 
relation  Adam  stood  to  his  posterity?'  'In  the  relation  of  a 
federal  head.'  '  What  do  you  mean  by  a  federal  head  ? '  'A  head 
with  whom  God  made  a  covenant  for  all  his  posterity.'  Then 
questions  on  all  the  knotty  points.  '  Still  the  wonder  grew,'  for 
the  more  the  lad  wras  examined  the  more  incorrigibly  orthodox 
did  he  grow,  until  they  began  to  fear  he  was  a  leetle  too  orthodox 
upon  some  points.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  vote  on  receiv- 
ing me  was  unanimous !  Well,  they  slept  upon  it.  Next  day, 
while  settling  the  time  of  my  ordination,  Prof.  McArthur,  of  Ox- 
ford, moved  to  postpone  the  business  to  take  up  some  resolu- 
tions. In  the  first  they  '  sincerely  adhered  to  the  Old  School  Pby. 
Assembly '  ;  second,  required  that  all  licentiates  and  candidates 
under  their  care  should  do  the  same  or  be  no  longer  such.  I 
declined  acknowledging  it  to  be  the  true  one.     Father  Craigh 


I  6  2  BIOGRAPH  Y  OF 

'whom  my  orthodoxy  had  softened)  said  they  would  give  me  six 
months  to  think  and  decide,  and  I  might  continue  to  preach  in 
their  bounds.  I  refused,  and  they  turned  me  out  and  gave  me 
my  papers  back  again.  I  asked  them  what  the  duty  of  my 
church  was.  They  replied  that  it  was  vacant — just  what  ihzy  had 
to  say,  and  just  what  I  wranted  them  to  say,  and,  moreover,  just 
what  I  determined  they  should  say.  I  drove  home  forthwith  ; 
got  back  on  Saturday.  On  Sunday  recounted  from  the  pulpit 
the  doings  of  Pby.,  and  declared  them  vacant  if  they  continued 
under  Oxford  ;  appointed  a  meeting  for  Wednesday  p.m.  for 
their  action.  By  a  unanimous  vote  they  withdrew  from  Oxford 
and  declared  themselves  an  Independent  Pbyn.  ch.  Now  for  Sy- 
nod. The  Old  School  called  a  convention  to  meet  two  days  be- 
fore Synod  met  ;  cut  out  a  series  of  resolutions  going  for  O.  S. 
Assembly,  cutting  off  those  who  had  officially  joined  the  Consti- 
tutional Assembly,  etc.,  etc.  After  sermon  by  Jno.  Rankin, 
Stowe  and  Coe  nominated  for  moderator — Stowe  47,  Coe  70. 
The  New  School  then  determined  simply  to  urge  on  tc  voting. 
All  speaking  was  on  one  side.  When  they  had  passed  the  reso- 
lutions to  the  one  cutting  off  all  who  had  joined  N.  S.  Assembly 
they  inserted  a  new  one,  by  which  majority  of  Cincinnati  Presbytery 
were  ejected!  Jno.  Rankin  'then  rose  and  declared  the  body  dis- 
solved, and  as  moderator  of  last  Synod  would  give  them  time  to 
leave  the  house,  and  would  then  form  the  true  Synod.  They 
prayed  and  adjourned  to  Wilson's.  It  was  queer.  '  Synod  of  Cin- 
cinnati will  adjourn  to  meet  at  7  in  1st  Pby.  ch.';  'Synod  Cin. 
will  now  come  to  order,'  etc.  I  left  after  this  and  both  bodies 
were  still  in  session.  I  stepped  in  a  moment  Saturday  morning 
just  before  leaving,  and  they  were  then  passing  in  our  Synod  a 
resolution  not  to  allow  any  slave-holder  in  our  connection  Mills 
agreed  to  it.  I  did  not  wait  to  hear  votes,  but  presume  it  was 
nearly  unanimous.  Synod  declared  the  whole  ground  formerly 
held  by  Oxford  Pby.  to  be  held  by  the  Cin.  Pby.  Stowe  has  just 
written  me  that  Graham,  Thomas,  Chidlow,  Merril,  Crothers, 
Dickey,  and  others  have  formally  withdrawn  from  the  Old  School 
Synod,  but  not  yet  united  with  ours.  This  is  a  brief  sketch  of 
matters  ecclesiastical.  Pby.  of  Cin.  will  begin  their  new  authority 
over  former  territory  of  Oxford  Pby.,  by  coming  here  to  ordain 
me  on  Thurs.,  Nov.  8  [1838]." 

The   New  School  Presbytery  met  in  Cincinnati,  and  before 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER.  163 

til  1  s  body  Mr.  Beecher  applied  for  ordination,  the  minutes  of 
which  record  that   it  ordained  and   installed  him  November  9, 

[838,  over  the  independent  church  at  Lawrence  burg,  Dr.  Ly- 
man Beecher  presiding,  Dr.  Blanchard  charging  the  pastor,  and 
Dr.  Calvin   E.  Stowe,   his  brother-in-law,   charging  the  people. 

Mr.  Beecher  felt  that  the  division  in  the  Church  was  wholly 
uncalled  for,  but  naturally  was  unwilling  to  desert  the  school  to 
which  he  was  attached  by  its  more  liberal  and  democratic  policy, 
by  the  associations  of  his  education,  and  the  ties  of  filial  love  and 
admiration.  The  bitterness  of  this  controversy  in  the  body  of  the 
Church,  and  the  utter  folly  of  a  great  Church,  organized  for  the 
work  of  saving  men's  souls,  wasting  its  strength  in  harsh  recrimi- 
nations and  angry  feuds  over  matters  which  seemed  to  him  of 
minor  importance,  and  finally  splitting  the  Church  into  two  hos- 
tile bodies,  produced  a  profound  impression  upon  Mr.  Beecher's 
mind,  and  developed  rapidly  that  trait,  doubtless  then  latent, 
which  has  so  markedly  characterized  his  preaching  since  then — a 
disregard  of  mere  forms,  provided  he  could  secure  the  substance. 
And  so  he  grew  to  look  upon  all  denominations  as  his  brethren, 
wholly  disregarding  the  formal  differences  that  existed,  rejoicing 
heartily  in  all  their  successes,  and  wishing  them  God-speed,  see- 
ing only  the  objects  for  which  all  labored — the  enlightenment  of 
the  world,  the  saving  of  mankind.  He  was  always  willing  to  co- 
operate. He  never  withheld  his  hand  or  voice,  when  there  was  a 
chance  to  help  a  struggling  church,  because  it  was  of  a  different 
denomination  from  his  own. 

He  gave  another  account  of  these  experiences  and  their  effect 
upon  his  mind,  in  some  remarks  at  one  of  his  Friday-night  meet- 
ings, suggested  by  the  meeting,  in  the  spring  of  1869,  of  the  As- 
semblies of  the  Old  and  New  Schools,  and  their  reunion  as  one 
body  at  that  time  : 

"  My  whole  life  has  more  or  less  taken  its  color  from  the  con- 
troversy which  led  to  the  division  of  the  Old  School  and  the  New 
School  Presbyterians.  I  was  brought  up  in  New  England,  a  min- 
ister's son,  the  son  of  a  minister  who  was  doctrinally  inclined  and 
whose  warmest  friends  were  great  doctrinarians.  My  father's 
household  was  substantially  a  debating  society.  As  early  as  I 
can  remember  I  knew  enough  to  discuss  foreordination,  and  I 
could  do  it  as  well  as  my  betters.  I  could  go  just  as  far  as  they 
could,  could  run  against  snags  at  the  same  spots  that  they  did, 


164  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

and  could  not  get  off  any  better  than  they  could.  All  those  great 
doctrines  which  tend  powerfully  to  enlarge  the  imagination  and 
to  sharpen  the  reason  without  feeding  them  were,  I  had  almost 
said,  matters  of  daily  conversation  in  my  father's  family.  When 
I  went  to  college  I  fell  under  the  influence  of  a  young  minister 
who  became  an  Old  School  Presbyterian.  He  was  a  man  of  large 
brain  and  marked  ability.  He  had  a  naturally  philosophic  mind. 
He  was  noble- hearted  and  genial.  I  remember  that  my  poetic 
temperament,  alongside  of  his  rigorous,  logical  temperament,  used 
to  seem  to  me  mean  and  contemptible.  I  thought  he  was  like  a 
big  oak-tree,  while  I  was  more  like  a  willow,  half-grown  and  pliant, 
yielding  to  every  force  that  was  exerted  upon  it.  At  any  rate,  he 
had  a  powerful  influence  upon  my  development.  But  as  I  came 
to  the  possession  of  myself  more  and  more  I  took  on  the  logical 
methods  in  the  exercise  of  the  reasoning  faculty  which  God  had 
implanted  in  me,  and  they  came  near  wrecking  me  ;  for  I  became 
sceptical,  not  malignantly  but  honestly,  and  it  was  to  me  a  matter 
of  great  distress  and  anguish.  It  continued  for  years,  and  no 
logic  ever  relieved  me.  My  brother  Charles  went  through  the 
same  process,  and  he  came  back  in  the  same  way  that  I  did, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  a  living  Saviour.  An  abstract, 
philosophical  statement  of  the  truth  never  met  my  wants,  but 
when  there  arose  over  the  horizon  a  vision  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  as  a  living  Friend,  who  had  the  profoundest  personal  inte- 
rest in  me,  I  embraced  that  view  and  was  lifted  up.  My  heart 
did  for  me  then  what  my  head  had  failed  to  do.  This  was  an 
experience  which  has  constituted  one  of  the  greatest  affirmative 
forces  that  have  acted  on  my  mind  in  preaching.  All  my  life 
long  I  have  had  a  strong  disposition  to  so  preach  the  truth  as  to 
meet  the  wants  of  men  who  stand  not  only  outside  of  the  churches 
but  outside  of  belief.  I  suppose  that  as  long  as  I  live  I  shall 
think  of  the  truth,  not  as  it  looks  to  those  that  are  within  the 
Church,  but  as  it  looks  to  those  that  are  outside  of  the  Church 
and  outside  of  belief  itself. 

"  This  has  given  to  my  preaching  an  element  of  naturalism. 
It  has  led  me  to  seek  for  a  ground  on  which  I  could  stand  and 
bring  men  to  a  knowledge  of  the  love  of  Christ.  I  have  gone  far 
from  the  usual  narrow  ecclesiastical  and  theological  rules  to  broad- 
er social  methods  by  which  men  that  are  doubters  can  be  reached. 

11  My  first  settlement  as  a  pastor  was  at  Lawrenceburg,  Indi- 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  165 

ana,  where  I  was  two  wars  in  the  Presbyterian  Church.  Winn  I 
left  Lane  Seminary  I  went  down  there  to  preach,  and  I  thought 
nothing  about  Church  connection.     My  business,  as   I   supposed, 

was  to  preach  what  little  I  knew  and  to  lead  men  to  the  Saviour  ; 
hut  I  soon  felt,  tor  the  first  time,  the  authority  of  the  Church.  I 
had  not  been  ground  ;  I  was  nothing  but  corn,  and  I  had  to  be  run 
through  a  mill.  This  Lawrenceburg  church  was  in  the  territory 
of  the  Miami  Presbytery.  The  Presbytery  was  not  only  a  body 
of  Presbyterians,  but  was  composed  of  Old  School  Presbyterians ; 
not  only  were  they  Old  School  Presbyterians,  but  they  were 
Scotch-Irish  Presbyterians  ;  and  not  only  were  they  straight,  but 
they  bent  like  a  hoop  the  other  way.  I  had  received  an  ordina- 
tion license  at  the  Cincinnati  Presbytery — where  my  father  be- 
longed at  that  time — in  about  1837  ;  but  it  was  necessary  that  I 
should  undergo  another  examination.  The  Assemblies  had  not 
then  divided  ;  there  was  only  the  one  Church  ;  but.  there  were 
two  parties — the  Old  School  and  the  New  School.  There  was 
the  one  great  body,  but  there  were  these  two  sections.  There 
were  presbyteries  and  synods  of  the  New  School,  and  there  were 
presbyteries  and  synods  of  the  Old  School ;  but  they  were  under 
the  same  authority. 

u  I  went  on  horseback  from  Lawrenceburg  to  Oxford,  where 
the  Presbytery  was  in  session.  And,  by  the  way,  I  came  near  los- 
ing my  life  in  crossing  the  river.  The  water  was  high,  and  I  was 
thrown  into  it ;  but  I  got  out  and  dried  off,  and  started  again, 
and  reached  my  destination  without  any  further  mishap,  and 
went  through  my  examination. 

"  At  that  time,  under  the  instruction  which  I  had  had  in  my 
father's  family,  under  the  college  drill  that  I  had  gone  through, 
and  under  the  training  to  which  I  was  subjected  in  Lane  Semi- 
nary, I  had  become  so  familiar  with  the  doctrines  of  theology 
that  it  was  difficult  for  any  one  to  put  me  down  in  a  discussion  of 
them.  I  could  state  them  very  glibly.  I  was  ready  with  an  ex- 
planation of  every  single  point  connected  with  them.  I  knew  all 
their  proofs,  all  their  dodging  cuts,  all  their  ins  and  outs.  There- 
fore I  had  no  trouble  in  standing  my  ground  with  the  men  who 
examined  me.  They  knew  they  had  Dr.  Beecher's  son  before 
them ;  the  questions  came  like  hail,  and  I  was  very  willing. 
Somehow  I  have  always  had  a  certain  sympathy  with  human  na- 
ture which  has   led  me  invariably,   in  my  better  moods,  to  see 


I  6  6  BIC  GKA  PII  \ '  OF 

instinctively,  or  to  perceive  by  intuition,  how  to  touch  the  right 
chord  in  people,  how  to  reach  the  living  principle  in  them  ;  and 
that  faculty  was  fully  awakened  in  me  on  this  occasion.  I  recol- 
lect that  the  presiding  clergyman  at  that  Presbytery  was  a  man 
that  I  had  seen  at  my  father's  house  and  that  I  had  taken  a  sort 
of  fancy  to.  He  was  probably  fifty  or  sixty  years  of  age.  He 
was  tall,  and  was  thin  in  the  face,  and  he  had  a  shrill,  ringing 
voice.  I  felt  that  he  was  like  a  file  ;  but  still  I  liked  him.  Well, 
he  put  questions  to  me.  Some  of  them  I  answered  directly,  some 
ingeniously,  some  intelligently,  and  others  somewhat  obscurely. 
The  examination  extended  over  two  or  three  hours  ;  and  I 
thought  I  perceived  a  warming  and  melting  influence  among 
those  men.  I  was  quite  indifferent  as  to  whether  or  not  I  came 
out  with  their  endorsement,  and  I  have  a  recollection  of  feeling 
very  fine.  They  questioned,  and  questioned,  and  questioned ; 
and  it  happened  that  the  points  on  which  they  were  very  particu- 
lar were  man's  sinfulness,  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  its 
necessity,  its  work,  the  thoroughness  of  it,  and  so  on. 

"  Now,  I  was  always  immensely  orthodox — thunderingly  so  ; 
and  when  they  thought  they  were  going  to  get  heresy  they  got  a 
perfect  avalanche  of  orthodoxy.  This  man  whom  I  had  seen  at 
father's  was  quite  carried  away  with  me  ;  he  shielded  me  and 
helped  me  over  some  rough  places  ;  and  the  Presbytery,  without 
a  dissenting  voice,  voted  that  I  was  orthodox — to  their  amaze- 
ment and  mine  ! 

"  I  thought  then  that  the  bitterness  of  death  was  past,  when 
lo  !  a  professor  from  Oxford  University,  Miami,  introduced  a 
resolution,  which  was  passed,  that  that  Presbytery  wculd  not 
license  nor  ordain  any  candidate  who  would  not  give  in  his  ad- 
hesion to  the  Old  School  Presbyterian  General  Assembly.  It 
was  on  that  point  that  the  Old  and  New  Schools  divided,  and  I, 
being  my  father's  son,  spurned  the  idea  of  going  over  to  the  Old 
School  ;  I  felt  as  big  as  forty  men  ;  and  when  that  resolution 
passed  I  simply  said  :  *  Well,  brethren,  I  have  nothing  to  do  but 
to  go  back  to  my  father's  house.'  They  were  kind  to  me  ;  they 
seemed  to  have  conceived  an  affection  for  the  young  man  ;  they 
took  the  greatest  pains  to  conciliate  me  ;  they  endeavored  to 
smooth  the  way  for  me,  and  tried  to  persuade  me  to  comply 
with  their  wish  ;  but  I  was  determined,  and  said,  '  I  won't.'  I 
always  had  the  knack  of  saying  that  and  sticking  to  it  ! 


KEV,  HENRY  WARD   BEECH ER 


.67 


"  So  I  turned  my  back  on  the  Oxford  Presbytery,  and  rode 
to  Lawrenceburg  again  ;  and  the  next  Sunday  morning  I  an- 
nounced to  my  congregation  the  result  of  my  .week's  pilgrim 
told  them  of  the  vote  which  declared  their  church  vacant,  and 
said  to  them  :  '  Now,  brethren,  one  of  two  things  is  necessary  : 
you  must  get  somebody  else  to  preach  for  you,  or  you  must  de- 
clare yourselves  independent  of  the  Presbyterian  Church.'  It 
was  no  sooner  said  than  done.  Before  sundown  on  that  day  they 
declared  themselves  an  independent  church,  and  I  decided  to 
stay  with  them.  I  was  then  ordained  by  the  New  School  Pres- 
bytery in  Cincinnati,  after  which  I  went  on  with  my  work  regu- 
larly.' 

"  Preceding  all  this,  you  should  recollect  that  during  the 
three  years  that  I  was  in  the  Seminary  the  controversy  between 
the  Old  and  New  School  Presbyterians  ran  very  high  on  ques- 
tions of  theology  and  on  questions  of  Church  authority.  I  had 
been  stuffed  with  these  things.  I  had  eaten  and  drank  them.  I 
had  chopped  and  hewed  them.  I  had  built  up  from  them  every 
sort  of  argument.     I  had  had  them  ad  nauseam. 

"  When  I  went  out  into  the  field  I  found  all  the  little  churches 
ready  to  divide,  such  was  the  state  of  feeling  throughout  the 
whole  West.  Going  into  my  work  in  the  midst  of  that  state  of 
affairs,  I  made  up  my  mind  distinctly  that,  with  the  help  of  God, 
I  would  never  engage  in  any  religious  contention.  I  remember 
riding  through  the  woods  for  long,  dreary  days,  and  I  recollect 
at  one  time  coming  out  into  an  open  place  where  the  sun  shone 
down  through  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  where  I  had  such  a 
sense  of  the  love  of  Christ,  of  the  nature  of  His  work  on  earth,  of 
its  beauty  and  its  grandeur,  and  such  a  sense  of  the  miserable- 
ness  of  Christian  men  quarrelling  and  seeking  to  build  up  antag- 
onistic churches — in  other  words,  the  kingdom  of  Christ  rose  up 
before  my  mind  with  such  supreme  loveliness  and  majesty — that 
I  sat  in  my  saddle,  I  do  not  know  how  long  (many,  many  min- 
utes ;  perhaps  half  an  hour),  and  there,  all  alone,  in  a  great  forest 
of  Indiana,  probably  twenty  miles  from  any  house,  prayed  for 
that  kingdom,  saying  audibly,  '  I  will  never  be  a  sectary.'  I 
remember  promising  Christ  that  if  He  would  strengthen  me  and 
teach  me  how  to  work  I  would  all  my  life  long  preach  for  His 
kingdom  and  endeavor  to  love  everybody  who  was  doing  that 
work.     Not  that  I  would  accept  others'  belief,  not  that   I  would 


1 68 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


embrace  their  theology,  not  that  I  would  endorse  their  ecclesias- 
tical organizations  ;  but  whatever  their  instruments  might  be,  if 
they  were  sincerely  working  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ  I  would 
never  put  a  straw  in  their  way  and  never  strike  a  blow  to  their 
harm.  By  the  grace  of  God  I  have  kept  that  resolution  to  this 
day.     There  was  so  much  good  that  came  from  the  discussions 


Mr.   Beecher  at  the  Time  of  his  Marriage. 


and  quarrels  of  the  Old  and  New  Schools  by  which  at  that 
period  of  my  ministry  I  was  surrounded.  So  much  for  the  influ- 
ence on  my  mind  of  those  early  scenes  and  experiences,  which 
were  more,  in  some  respects,  a  theological  school  to  me  than 
Lane  Seminary  itself  was/' 


RE  I '.  HENR  Y  WARD  BEEi  7/1  R. 


[69 


Such  was  the  beginning  of  his  ministry. 

We  may  now  retrace  our  steps  a  little  to  take  a  look  at  the 
beginning  of  his  domestic  life. 

For  seven  years,  like  Jacob  of  old,  he  had  labored,  waiting  for 
the  time  when  he  could  claim  his  wife.  Of  course,  until  he  was 
settled  somewhere  with  some  definite  income,  it  was  folly  to  think 
oi  marrying.  But  when  he  began  preaching  on  trial  at  Lawrence- 
burg,  and  it  seemed  probable  that  he  might  be  called  there,  his 
mind  ran  forward  to  when,  having  a  definite  home,  he  might  go 


sfe- 


Mrs.   Beecher  at  the  Time  of    her  Marriage. 

East  for  his  bride.     In  his  journal  we  find  one   of  his  written 
reveries  : 

"Spring,  March  1,  1837. — The  winter  has  gone.  Spring  has 
come — the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds.  How  vividly  does  that 
little  expression  call  up  the  whole  scene — the  bright  sun,  the 
mild  air,  the  heaven  full  of  sweet  influences,  and  the  green 
sprouting  grass  among  patches  of  snow,  and  the  swelling  buds  ! 
Every  voice  echoes  in  the  air,  and  all  sounds  are  mellow.  The 
falling  of  a  plank,  the  pound  of  a  hammer  or  beetle,  the  rumble  of 
a  wagon,  all,  this  morning,  sound  like  joyful  music.     But  I  have 


I  7  O  BIO  GRA  PH  Y  OF 

one  thought  sweeter  than  any  of  these,  which  makes  these  sweet  : 
it  is  that  now  only  spring  and  summer  are  to  fly  before  I  meet 
my  dear  wife,  not  again  to  be  parted,  except  by  death  !  " 

In  July,  1837,  having  been  formally  called,  though  before  his 
ordination — it  then  being  apparent  that  he  was  to  be  definitely 
settled  at  Lawrenceburg — he  wrote  to  Miss  Bullard,  suggesting 
that  their  marriage  be  celebrated  shortly  after  his  ordination, 
which  was  then  expected  to  be  in  the  following  September.  He 
had  no  sooner  written  and  mailed  the  letter  when  he  said  to  him- 
self, as  he  explained  to  his  wife  later  :  "  Why  should  I  wait  for 
my  ordination  ?  Why  not  have  my  wife  present  at  it?  And  I 
started  that  very  afternoon." 

His  letter  reached  Miss  Bullard  in  the  morning  of  Saturday, 
July  29,  and  he  himself  appeared  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day, 
to  the  great  surprise  of  all.  His  plan  was  explained,  and  after  a 
hasty  discussion  August  3  was  fixed  on  for  the  wedding,  and 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  hour. 

M  I  was  expected  to  be  ready  to  leave  in  the  afternoon  of 
August  3,"  writes  Mrs.  Beecher.  "  The  wedding-dress  and  wed- 
ding-cake were  to  be  made — for  what  New  England  damsel  could 
be  married  without  wedding-cake  ?  At  one  o'clock  Monday 
morning  I  began  my  work,  sewing  until  the  family  were  up. 
After  the  breakfast  was  over  the  materials  for  the  wedding-cake 
were  brought  from  the  village  store,  and  Henry  and  I  began  the 
work  ioxthe  cake.  He  picked  over  and  stoned  the  raisins — taking 
abundant  toll  while  doing  it  —  beating  the  eggs,  and  in  every  way 
made  himself  useful,  and  kept  the  whole  family  in  good  spirits 
and  cheerful,  when,  but  for  him,  in  such  hurried  preparations  we 
might  have  felt  the  great  exertion  severely.  But  the  work  was 
done,  and  the  3d  of  August  dawned  bright  and  rosy. 

"  Very  few  guests  were  invited  outside  of  the  brothers  and 
sisters,  with  their  families,  who  were  near  enough  to  the  old  home 
to  reach  us.  Both  my  sisters  were  married  in  a  storm,  and  I 
had  always  said  /  would  not  be.  Three  o'clock  was  the  hour  ap- 
pointed for  the  wedding.  About  two  a  heavy  thunder-shower 
came  on,  and  it  began  to  rain,  thunder,  and  lighten.  At  three 
o'clock  we  were  summoned,  but  I  said  :  '  Wait  until  the  storm 
passes,'  and,  in  spite  of  their  remonstrance,  they  did  wait.  At 
four  o'clock  the  clouds  broke  away  and  the  sun  appeared,  and  we 
were  ushered  into  the  parlor,  Henry  and  I  together.      Just  as  we 


RE  I '.  HENR  V  IV.  l  RD  BEE  CHE  R.  I  7  1 

were  entering  the  door  (it  was  very  warm,  and  door  and  windows 
all  open)  a  rainbow^  the  most  brilliant  I  ever  saw,  and  so  re- 
marked by  all  in  the  room,  seemed  through  the  open  window  to 
span  the  parlor,  and  the  spectators  said  we  walked  under  its  arch 
to  our  places.  In  his  prayer  the  clergyman  spoke  of  the  l  how 
oi  peace  and  promise,1  which  he  hoped  was  the  beautiful  symbol 
of  what  our  lives  were  to  be. 

"  We  rode  to  Worcester  after  the  long  farewells  were  said,  not 
expecting  to  meet  the  home  friends  again  for  years." 

A  few  days  later  Mr.  Beecher  wrote  from  New  York  to  his 
sister,  Mrs.  Stowe: 

"  My  very  dear  Sister  : 

"  Before  this  gets  to  you,  you  will  have  begun  to  look  for  us 
and  wonder  that  we  do  not  write  or  come.  This  is  to  certify  that 
we  are  alive,  safely  and  thoroughly  married.  Coming,  and  came 
as  far  as  New  York.  Now,  this  damsel,  my  most  comely  wife, 
longing  for  the  leeks  and  cucumbers  of  Boston,  did  freely  eat 
thereof,  and  these,  as  in  duty  bound,  did  most  freely  hurt  her. 
Three  days  she  bore  it,  but  on  arriving  at  New  York  they  had 
come  well-nigh  to  the  cholera  morbus  ;  and  thus  we  are  detained 
for  a  few  days.  The  doctor's  prescriptions  have  acted  like  a 
charm.  She  is  relieved,  and  rapidly  grows  better.  Nevertheless, 
it  being  now  Thursday,  we  shall  tarry  until  Monday  for  her  to 
gain  strength,  and  then,  God  willing,  we  shall  set  our  faces  west- 
ward and  travel  like  the  wind.  We  were  married  on  Thursday 
afternoon,  at  four  o'clock,  August  the  third.  We  went  immedi- 
ately to  Worcester,  to  Mr.  Barton's.  Nothing  could  surpass  his 
delicate  kindness  to  us. 

"  I  preached  a  preparatory  lecture  to  the  three  churches  on 
Friday  p.m.,  and  preached  twice  for  Mr.  Peabody  on  Sunday. 
Monday  left  for  Boston.  Stayed  unti^  Tuesday  of  the  week  en- 
suing. Preached  in  Bowdoin  church  in  the  morning  of  Sunday, 
and  at  Park  Street  in  the  p.m.  Was  invited  to  preach  all  day 
at  Bowdoin,  and  also  all  day  at  Odeon,  but  preferred  my  course. 
Left  for  New  York  on  Tuesday  noon  ;  arrived  next  morning.  Am 
at  Rev.  Mr.  Jones's  (Mrs.  Beecher's  brother-in-law),  and  very 
pleasantly  situated.  Lucy  Ann  is  a  dear,  sweet  sister,  and  Mr. 
Jones  a  most  amiable  and  well  read,  gentlemanly  man.     Probably 


1  J 2  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

I   shall  preach  here  on  the  Sabbath,  but  nothing  has  yet  been 
definitely  said. 

"  Shall  return  by  Pittsburgh,  leaving  this  place  on  Monday 
next,  if  God  wills.  At  that  rate  you  may  calculate  upon  seeing 
us  somewhere  about  the  middle  of  the  week  ensuing. 

"  Ah  !  Harriet,  how  I  long  to  see  you  and  Calvin.  I  shall 
soon  show  you  my  dear,  dear  wife.  I  grow  more  and  more  proud 
of  her  every  day.  .  .  . 

"  Love  to  all — for  I  love  you  all,  even  to  the  little  homely  kit- 
ten— and  love  to  all  our  folks,  Margaret  Hastings  and  all. 
"  Yours  most  affectionately,  dear  Harriet, 

"  H.  W.  B." 

Leaving  New  York,  they  started  westward,  partly  by  rail, 
partly  by  steamer,  and  not  a  little  by  the  slow  method  of  the 
canal ;  travelled  day  and  night,  until  they  finally  reached  Cincin- 
nati the  last  of  August. 

From  Mrs.  Beecher's  memory  we  obtain  her  impressions  of 
their  first  pastorate  : 

"  We  remained  a  few  days  at  Walnut  Hills,  and  then  took  the 
little  steamer  with  a  free  pass  to  Lawrenceburg.  We  were  to 
board  for  the  present,  as  we  'did  not  think  that  eighteen  cents  in 
pocket  and  three  hundred  dollars  a  year  prospective  salary  would 
enable  us  to  begin  housekeeping.  Lawrenceburg  was  a  small 
place  on  the   Miami. 

"  Mr.  Beecher  was  obliged  to  take  charge  of  that  part  of  the 
building  in  which  he  was  to  preach.  Together  we  went  every 
Saturday  afternoon,  swept  and  dusted  the  room,  filled  the  lard- 
oil  lamps,  and  laid  the  wood  and  kindlings  ready  for  him  to  start 
the  fire  the  next  morning  before  service,  when  needed  ;  for  the 
members  of  the  church  were  all,  except  a  few  families,  poor  la- 
boring people,  with  all  they  could  attend  to  at  home. 

"But  curiosity  to  hear  the  young  preacher  filled  the  room  the 
first  Sabbath,  and  from  that  time  it  continued  to  be  filled — crowd- 
ed. The  Methodist  church  had  always  been  the  fashionable 
church,  where  the  wealthy  and  more  refined  part  of  the  popula- 
tion worshipped.  This  little  Presbyterian  church  had  almost 
died  out,  and,  when  first  requested  to  preach  there,  neither  Mr. 
Beecher  nor  the  people  had  any  thought  of  his  coming  for  more 
than  that  one  Sabbath.     But  his  manner  of  preaching  was  so  very 


RE l '.  HEAR  V  U\l A'/)  BEEL HE R.  i  7  ; 

different  from  what  they  had  been  accustomed  to — so  original 
— that  they  wanted  to  hear  him  again,  and  after  that  they  gave 
him  a  call  to  settle  there.  The  Home  Missionary  Society  were 
to  give  $150,  and  the  little  band  who  composed  the  church 
thought  they  could  manage  to  raise  $150 — in  all  $300 — and  the 
call  was  accepted,  notwithstanding  the  remonstrance  of  friends 
in  Cincinnati.  They  were  more  ambitious  for  him  than  he  was 
for  himself,  knowing  that  he  could  doubtless,  in  a  short  time, 
get  a  better  settlement.  They  knew,  also,  he  intended  to  marry 
as  ^oon  as  his  theological  course  was  finished,  and  thought  him 
wild  to  think  of  bringing  a  wife  out  West  and  expect  to  be  able 
to  live  on  three  hundred  dollars  a  year.  But  from  the  first  he 
acted  up  to  the  advice  he  always  gave  in  after-years  to  young 
graduates  from  theological  seminaries  :  '  Dont  Jiang  round  idle, 
waiting  for  a  good  offer.  Enter  the  first  field  God  opens  for  you. 
If  He  needs  you  in  a  larger  one  He  will  open  the  gate  for  you  to 
enter.'     And  so  he  did. 

"From  his  first  sermon  in  Lawrenceburg  that  little  room  was 
crowded.  He  did  not  extemporize  so  entirely,  at  first,  as  in  later 
years— at  least  he  wrote  more  copious  notes — but  those  who 
knew  him  can  well  imagine  that  when  warmed  up  by  his  subject 
his  notes  did  not  hold  him  very  closely. 

"  How  vividly  I  recall  that  first  Sabbath  !  How  young,  how 
boyish  he  did  look !  And  how  indignant  I  felt,  when  some  of 
the  ''higher  classes '  came  in  out  of  simple  curiosity,  to  see  the 
surprised,  almost  scornful  looks  that  were  interchanged  ! 

"  He  read  the  first  hymn,  and  read  it  well — as  they  had  never 
heard  their  own  ministers  (often  illiterate,  uneducated  men)  read 
hymns.  I  watched  the  expression  change  on  their  faces.  Then 
the  first  prayer  !  It  was  a  revelation  to  them,  and  when  he  began 
the  sermon  the  critical  expression  had  vanished,  and  they  evi- 
dently settled  themselves  to  hear  in  earnest. 

"  The  next  Sunday  the  interest  was  still  more  strongly  marked. 
His  preaching  was  to  them  something  unusual.  It  was  evident 
the  hearers  were  not  quite  at  ease.  He  woke  them  up,  and  they 
were  not  quite  prepared  to  decide  whether  they  were  anxious  to 
be  so  thoroughly  aroused.  They  were  not  exactly  comfortable, 
and  some  went  away,  after  the  services  were  over,  a  little  irritated 
and  half-decided  never  to  hear  him  again. 

"  The  next  Sabbath  they  concluded  it  would  not  hurt  them 

'See  Appendix  A." 


I  74  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

to  go  just  this  one  time  more,  and  from  that  time  were  constant 
attendants.  The  satisfaction  with  this  young  preacher  increased, 
and  many  from  all  sects  came  regularly." 

On  his  return  from  the  East  with  his  young  wife,  not  feeling 
that  they  could  afford  to  undertake  housekeeping,  he  accepted 
the  hospitality  of  one  of  his  elders,  who  had  offered  him  a  room 
in  his  house.  There  they  lived  for  some  little  time,  when  the 
sudden  death  of  a  member  of  the  family  and  the  necessity  of  a 
change  in  the  good  elder's  domestic  arrangements  required  the 
use  of  this  room. 

At  this  time  Mr.  Beecher  was  attending  a  synodical  meeting  at 
Cincinnati.  Mrs.  Beecher  set  to  work  at  once  to  get  board  else- 
where. Failing  in  this,  she  sought  to  hire  rooms.  After  hunting 
until  nearly  exhausted  she  secured  the  refusal  of  two  rooms  over 
a  stable  down  by  the  banks  of  the  Miami,  which  had  been  occu- 
pied by  the  hostler,  rental  forty  dollars  per  annum. 

She  immediately  took  the  boat  to  Cincinnati,  and  then,  being 
too  poor  to  hire  a  wagon,  she  walked  to  Walnut  Hills,  four  miles 
from  Cincinnati — which  was  then  the  home  of  the  Beecher  family 
— to  report  on  the  state  of  affairs  to  her  husband.  A  hasty  exami- 
nation of  his  finances  showed  just  sixty-eight  cents.  As  they  had 
no  household  furniture  of  any  kind,  the  prospect  was  not  alluring. 
But  an  ability  to  get  along  somehow  was  a  characteristic  of  those 
days.  Friends,  though  not  over-rich  themselves,  were  able  each 
to  furnish  something.  One  supplied  half  of  an  old  carpet,  an- 
other some  knives  and  forks,  a  third  a  few  sheets  and  pillow- 
cases, then  a  bedstead,  a  stove  ;  and  little  by  little,  before  they  re- 
turned home  that  night,  there  was  gathered  together  enough  to 
meet  the  absolute  requirements  of  living.  Later  the  sale  of  Mrs. 
Beecher's  cloak  realized  thirty  dollars.  The  salary,  though  nomi- 
nally $500  per  annum,  was  in  fact  but  $300,  of  which  one-half 
was  paid  by  the  Home  Missionary  Society,  and  neither  half  paid 
with  great  regularity.  Any  industrious  day-laborer  of  modern 
times  would  have  been  ill-content  with  either  income  or  home 
possessions. 

Returning  from  Walnut  Hills,  the  next  thing  was  to  cleanse 
the  rooms  and  settle  down.  Mrs.  Beecher  gives  a  graphic  ac- 
count of  their  first  housekeeping  :  *'  When  we  reached  our  former 
boarding-house  we  found  our  good  friends  with  whom  we  had 
boarded  very  blue  because  their  pastor  and  wife  could  find  no 


REV    HENRY  WARD  BEEC11ER.  175 

better  rooms ;  but  the  lady  was  a  true  New  Rngland  woman  and 

knew  how  soon  a  little  hard  labor  would  change  the  looks  of  the 
rooms.  Old  Toby,  their  colored  man,  brought  round,  the  next 
morning,  two  pails  and  scrub-brushes  and  plenty  of  soap,  and 
Henry  and  1  went  to  work  with  great  energy.  Think  of  father 
with  sleeves  rolled  up,  a  big  apron  on,  scrubbing  the  floors  ! 
Hut  I  confess  I  never  had  known  anything  so  hard  to  clean.  To- 
bacco-stains and  all  manner  of  dirt  that  might  have  been  looked 
for  from  the  former  occupants  was  so  soaked  into  the  floor  that  it 
seemed  impossible  to  remove  the  stains.  I  asked  the  landlord  if 
we  might  get  some  paint  and  paint  the  floors.  *  O/i  /  no.  That 
icon  Id  injure  the  wood!  ' 

"  In  a  day  or  two  the  rooms  were  as  clean  as  faithful,  hard 
work  could  make  them,  and  after  our  last  breakfast  with  our  kind 
friends  we  bade  them  good-morning,  with  thanks  and  a  blessing, 
and  went  to  get  our  furniture,  which  the  good  captain  of  the 
steamboat  had  stored  until  we  were  ready.  With  it  came  some 
groceries,  wash-tubs,  and  a  nice  painted  dining-table,  and  a  husk 
mattress,  and  husk  pillows. 

"  '  Where  did  these  last  things  come  from  ? '  said  your  father. 

"  '  Part  of  my  cloak,'  I  replied,  'but  not  all  of  it.' 

"  The  kitchen-window  looked  out  on  a  large  back-yard  that 
could  be  made  a  fine  one  with  a  little  care,  but  among  the  rubbish 
I  espied  an  old  three-legged  table  and  something  that  looked  like 
the  remains  of  small  hanging  shelves.  I  ran  down  stairs  and 
asked  the  landlady  if  they  had  been  thrown  aside  as  worthless. 
'Oh!  yes.  They  are  good  for  nothing.'  'Then  may  I  have 
them  ? '  '  Certainly.  But  on  examination  you  will  find  them  of 
no  use.' 

"  I  washed  and  cleaned  them  well,  and  called  to  Henry  to  take 
them  up-stairs  to  our  rooms.  By  the  table  I  found  the  broken 
leg.  With  very  little  trouble  the  table  was  repaired,  the  hanging 
shelves  put  up,  and  both  varnished.  They  proved  to  be  mahoga- 
ny, and  when  the  varnish  was  dry  they  looked  quite  nice.  Among 
your  father's  very  scanty  wardrobe  was  an  old  coat  past  any 
mending.  I  took  the  skirt,  cleaned  it,  and  put  it  on  the  top  of 
the  table,  and  fastened  the  sides  and  ends  with  some  strips  of  kid 
that  I  had  brought  from  home.  It  did  look  quite  fine,  and  you 
can  hardly  imagine  how  much  pride  and  pleasure  your  father  had 
with  his  writing-table. 


176  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"The  long  boxes  made  in  Amherst  expressly  to  pack  his 
books  in  when  he  came  West  were  well  made  of  planed  boards. 
These  we  set  one  atop  of  the  other,  open  side  out,  and  filled  with 
books  bought  by  his  own  labors  while  in  college,  teaching  school, 
and  making  speeches.  These  made  quite  a  fine  addition  to  the 
room  which  was  to  be  the  parlor,  study,  and  our  bed-room  all  in 
one. 

*'  In  the  back  room  was  a  cook-stove  given  by  brother  George, 
and  the  old  three-quarter  bedstead  that  your  father  used  at  Lane 
Seminary,  now  all  nice  and  clean,  curtained  with  some  four-cent 
calico  Mrs.  Judge  Burnet  gave  us.  Henry  made  the  upright 
posts  and  ran  a  large  wire  round  it  on  which  the  curtain  was  hung, 
with  a  wide  tape  all  round  the  top  on  which  our  clothes  were 
pinned.  Crosswise  from  the  door  to  the  chimney  a  piece  of  four- 
cent  calico  curtained  the  corner  where  wash-benches  and  tubs, 
flour-barrel  and  sugar-barrel  (the  two  last  sent  in  by  good  friends) 
were  placed,  and  over  the  door  leading  to  the  loft  in  the  adjoin- 
ing store  your  father  had  nailed  some  large  pieces  to  hold  saddle, 
bridle,  and  buffalo-robe.  On  the  other  side  of  the  range  was  a 
good  dish-closet,  and  in  front  a  sink. 

"  So  these  two  small  rooms,  at  first  so  repulsive,  were  becom- 
ing quite  a  pleasant  home.  The  house  was  situated  very  near 
the  boat-landing  on  the  wharf  of  the  Miami  River  —  too  near 
for  comfort  wrhen  freshets  swept  down  in  that  direction,  but  a 
pleasant  outlook  across  on  to  the  Kentucky  hills  ;  the  river  some- 
times so  low  that  your  father  has  walked  across  and  gathered 
flowers  in  Kentucky,  then  again  rising  so  as  to  sweep  everything 
before  it  as  it  did  two  years  ago,  utterly  obliterating  all  that  por- 
tion of  Lawrenceburg  where  we  lived." 

We  are  indebted  to  the  Rev.  John  H.  Thomas,  the  present 
pastor  of  Mr.  Beecher's  old  church  in  Lawrenceburg,  for  the  im- 
pressions of  his  ministry  there,  as  gathered  from  the  reminiscences 
of  his  surviving  parishioners  : 

"  Mr.  Beecher  made  his  mark  immediately.  His  youthful  ap- 
pearance— he  was  but  twenty-three — and  his  careless  dress  may 
have  raised  doubts  as  to  his  ability  when  his  hearers  first  saw  him, 
but  they  disappeared  as  soon  as  he  began  to  speak.  The  charac- 
teristics of  his  later  oratory  were  all  present  from  the  first — flu- 
ency, glowing  rhetoric,  abundance  of  illustrations,  witty  points, 
brilliant  ideas.     From  the  first  he  filled  the  church.      Merchants 


REV.  HENRY  ll'AKP  BEECHER. 


// 


told  their  customers  of  the  talented  young  preacher,  and  they 
would  come  miles  to  hear  him.  He  was  annoyed  at  interrup- 
tions, and  when  late-comers  appeared  lie  would  stop  speaking  till 
they  were  seated. 

"  His  personal  habits  were  as  original  and  effective  as  his  pul- 
pit efforts.  He  was  not  what  would  be  called  a  good  pastor.  An 
old  pastor  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  church  in  Lawrenceburg 
said  to  me  :  'Mr.  Beecher  could  outpreach  me,  but  I  could  out- 
visit  him,  and  visiting  builds  up  a  church  more  than  preaching.' 
The  records  of  the  church  during  his  pastorate  are  yet  in  our 
hands,  though  in  one  of  the  great  floods  here  the  volume  floated 
out  of  the  submerged  study  of  the  pastor,  and  was  found,  by 
chance,  embedded  in  the  yellow  deposit  of  the  Ohio.  It  is  accu- 
rately and  neatly  kept,  in  the  beautiful  hand  of  Mr.  Beecher,  each 
entry  signed  with  his  well-known  autograph.  The  additions  to 
the  church  were  about  on  the  average  of  other  pastors. 

"  But  outside  of  strictly  pastoral  work  Mr.  Beecher's  influ- 
ence was  felt  widely  and  beneficially.  He  was  universally  popu- 
lar. He  was  kindly,  genial,  and  free  with  all  classes.  He  would 
hunt  and  fish  with  men  not  used  to  the  society  of  clergymen,  and 
spent  much  time  on  the  river,  especially  in  catching  drift-wood 
brought  down  in  every  rise.  Once  he  called  to  a  poor  German 
emigrant  woman  that  if  she  would  bring  him  her  clothes-line  he 
would  show  her  how  to  get  her  winter's  supply  of  fuel.  She 
brought  it,  and  he  tied  a  stone  to  one  end,  and,  flinging  it  out 
from  the  shore  over  logs,  would  draw  them  in.  In  a  little  while 
their  combined  efforts  had  brought  in  a  dray-load. 

"  He  was  fond  of  talking  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men. 
There  was  an  old  shoemaker  in  the  town  of  pronounced  infidel 
views.  Mr.  Beecher  would  spend  hours  in  the  room  where  he 
worked,  discussing  with  him. 

"  There  is  no  evidence  that  he  lowered  in  any  degree  his  char- 
acter as  a  Gospel  minister,  but  plenty  that  his  influence  was  felt 
by  the  neglected  classes,  and  even  by  the  rough  elements.  And  in 
this  did  he  not  follow  the  example  of  his  divine  Master,  of  whom 
it  was  said  :  '  This  man  receiveth  sinners  and  eateth  with  them  '  ? 

"  He  was  not  unscholarly,  but  is  remembered  as  a  reader 
rather  than  as  a  student.  He  studied  men  even  more  than  books. 
A  Baptist  minister  with  whom  he  had  a  discussion  one  Sunday 
is  yet  living  here,  and  has  told  me  that  at  the  close  of  the  discus- 


I  J&  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

sion,  in  which  the  Baptist  minister  thought  he  had  the  best  of  it, 
Mr.  Beecher  waved  his  hand  and  said  to  the  audience  :  '  Well,  I 
don't  care  if  you  all  go  down  to  the  river  and  get  immersed.' 

"  His  going  away  was  esteemed  a  great  loss.  '  Cords  of  peo- 
ple,' says  an  old  lady  graphically,  '  were  about  to  come  into  the 
Church.'  But  Indianapolis,  then  with  only  2,500  people,  was  the 
State  capital,  and  was  rapidly  outstripping  the  little  town  on  the 
river.     It  was  a  louder  call. 

"  Mr.  Beecher's  relations  with  the  other  ministers  were  happy, 
although  he  outshone  them  completely.  He  established  a  popu- 
lar union  Sunday-school,  notwithstanding  there  was  one  in  each 
church,  and  he  often  spoke  in  other  churches." 

Mr.  Beecher  described  his  preaching  there  as  follows  : 

"  I  preached  some  theology.  I  had  just  come  out  of  the 
Seminary,  and  retained  some  portions  of  systematic  theology, 
which  I  used  when  I  had  nothing  else  ;  and  as  a  man  chops  straw 
and  mixes  it  with  Indian  meal  in  order  to  distend  the  stomach  of 
the  ox  that  eats  it,  so  I  chopped  a  little  of  the  regular  orthodox 
theology,  that  I  might  sprinkle  it  with  the  meal  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  But  my  horizon  grew  larger  and  larger  in  that  one  idea 
of  Christ.  It  seems  to  me  that  first  I  saw  Christ  as  the  Star  of 
Bethlehem,  but  afterward  He  seemed  to  expand,  and  I  saw  about 
a  quarter  of  the  horizon  filled  with  His  light,  and  through  years  it 
came  around  so  that  I  saw  about  one-half  in  that  light  ;  and  it 
was  not  until  after  I  had  gone  through  two  or  three  revivals  of 
religion  that,  when  I  looked  around,  He  was  all  and  in  all.  And 
my  whole  ministry  sprang  out  of  that." 

At  another  time  he  said  : 

"  I  had  no  idea  that  I  could  preach.  I  never  expected  that  I 
could  accomplish  much.  I  merely  went  to  work  with  the  feeling  : 
'  I  will  do  as  well  as  I  can,  and  I  will  stick  to  it,  if  the  Lord 
pleases,  and  fight  His  battle  the  best  way  I  know  how.'  And  I 
was  thankful  as  I  could  be.  Nobody  ever  sent  me  a  spare-rib 
that  I  did  not  thank  God  for  the  kindness  which  was  shown  me. 

I  recollect  when  Judge gave  me  his  cast-off  clothing  I  felt 

that  I  was  sumptuously  clothed.  I  wore  old  coats  and  second- 
hand shirts  for  two  or  three  years,  and  I  was  not  above  it  either, 
although  sometimes,  as  I  was  physically  a  somewhat  well-devel- 
oped man,  and  the  judge  was  thin  and  his  legs  were  slim,  they 
were  rather  a  tight  fit. 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  1  79 

"  ThCTC  was  B  humorous  side  tO  this,  but  I  could  easily  have 
put  a  dolorous  side  to  it.       I   could    have   said  :    '  Humph  !    pretty 

business  j     Son  of   Lyman    Beecher,  president  of  a  theologi<  a] 

seminar),  in  this  miserable  hole,  where  there  is  no  church,  and 
where  there  are  no  elders  and  no  men  to  make  them  out  of  ! 
This  is  not  according  to  my  deserts.  I  could  do  better.  I  ought 
not  to  waste  my  talents  in  such  a  place.'  But  I  was  delivered 
from  any  such  feeling.  I  felt  that  it  was  an  unspeakable  privi- 
lege to  be  anywhere  and  speak  of  Christ.  I  had  very  little  theo- 
logy —  that  is  to  say,  it  slipped  away  from  me.  I  knew  it,  but  it 
did  not  do  me  any  good.  It  was  like  an  armor  which  had  lost  its 
buckles  and  would  not  stick  on.  But  I  had  one  vivid  point — 
the  realization  of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.  And  I  tried 
to  work  that  up  in  every  possible  shape  for  my  people.  And  it 
was  the  secret  of  all  the  little  success  which  I  had  in  the  early 
part  of  my  ministry.  I  remember  that  I  used  to  ride  out  in  the 
neighborhood  and  preach  to  the  destitute,  and  that  my  predomi- 
nant feeling  was  thanksgiving  that  God  had  permitted  me  to 
preach  the  unsearchable  riches  of  His  grace.  I  think  I  can  say 
that  during  the  first  ten  years  of  my  ministerial  life  I  was  in  that 
spirit." 

Here  he  began  a  habit  which  he  followed  during  the  first  ten 
years  of  his  ministry — that  of  keeping  a  record  of  every  sermon 
preached,  stating  the  date,  text,  an  outline  of  the  sermon,  and 
then  the  reasons  why  he  preached  that  particular  sermon,  u  as 
giving  a  kind  of  guide  to  my  course  by  a  perusal  of  what  I  have 
done,  also  to  avoid  repetition  and  to  show  why  I  made  given  ser- 
mons "  ;  thus  forming  the  habit  of  preparing  his  sermons  with  a 
view  to  reaching  some  specific  object.  This  record,  with  his 
daily  journal  in  which  he  jotted  down  such  thoughts  on  religious 
subjects  as  came  to  his  mind  day  by  day,  are  now  before  us, 
and  show7  an  immense  amount  of  painstaking  care.  His  habit  of 
careful  analysis  was  of  incalculable  value  to  him  later,  giving  a 
logical  method  to  his  reasoning.  It  was  not  until  after  he  came 
to  Brooklyn  that,  under  the  increased  pressure  of  this  larger 
field  of  work,  he  abandoned  this  habit. 

The  last  recorded  sermons  we  find  were  those  preached  on 
the  morning  and  evening  of  January  5,  1848. 

During  the  second  year  of  his  Lawrenceburg  pastorate  he 
received  a  call  to  the  Second  Presbyterian  Church  in  Indianapo- 


l8o  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

lis,  at  a  salary  of  $600  per  year.  Though  this  opened  up  a  much 
iarger  and  more  effective  field  of  labor,  with  the  means  of  living 
much  more  comfortably,  yet,  feeling  that  he  was  doing  effective 
work  where  he  was,  he  refused  the  call.  He  was  always  opposed 
to  short  pastorates  and  frequent  changes :  he  had  no  faith  in  roll- 
ing stones. 

After  a  short  time  the  call  was  repeated  and  again  declined. 
He  was  then  urged  to  reconsider  his  refusal,  and  strong  repre- 
sentations were  made  to  him  that  it  was  his  duty  to  accept  the 
larger  and  more  important  field.  At  last,  perplexed,  he  agreed  to 
lay  the  matter  before  the  Synod  and  abide  by  their  recommenda- 
tion.    The  Synod  advised  that  he  accept  the  call. 

Aside  from  the  strong  aversion  which  he  felt  for  restless 
changes,  and  the  feeling  that,  no  matter  how  humble  the  field 
might  be,  he  ought  to  labor  there  so  long  as  there  was  work  for 
the  Master  to  engage  him,  he  also  felt  a  great  unwillingness  to 
leave  the  people  to  whom  he  was  becoming  strongly  attached. 
The  life  there,  though  rude  and  simple,  had  been  very  happy. 
There  his  first  child  had  been  born.  There  for  the  first  time  he 
really  had  begun  to  live  and  work  in  the  field  he  had  chosen. 
But  as  he  felt  constrained  to  be  guided  by  the  advice  which  he 
had  sought,  on  the  Synod's  recommendation  he  accepted  the  call. 

On  the  afternoon  of  July  28,  1839,  he  preached  his  farewell 
sermon  at  Lawrenceburg  from  the  text :  "  These  are  the  words 
which  I  spake  unto  you  while  I  was  yet  with  you." 


CHAPTER  X. 

Tlie  New  Field — Growth  of  Influence — Social  Life — The  Secret  of  Effective 
Pleaching — Editorial  Labors — Lectures  to  Young  Men — Call  to  Brook- 
lyn— Departure. 

WITH  a  heart  full  of  tender  feelings  he  parted  with  his  peo- 
ple and  entered  into  the  larger  work  in  which  he  first 
became  known  outside  of    the    limits  of    his   Presbytery. 

In  the  last  week  in  July,  1839,  he  removed  his  family  to 
Indianapolis,  which,  though  it  wras  the  State  capital,  was  hardly 
more  than  a  village,  having  less  than  4,000  inhabitants,  its 
streets  unpaved  and  noted  for  the  depth  and  persistency  of  the 
mud.  Like  most  of  the  then  frontier  towns,  it  was  very  malarial  ; 
chills  and  fever  were  expected  as  a  matter  of  course,  very  rarely 
disappointing  the  expectation. 

The  Second  Presbyterian  Church  was  an  offshoot  from  the 
"  First "  Church,  a  chip  struck  out  by  the  axe  of  controversy, 
then  being  so  fiercely  waged  between  the  Old  and  New  Schools. 
The  new  church  was  of  course  New  School.  Its  fifteen  origi- 
nal members,  having  been  released  from  the  First  Church  after 
some  little  ecclesiastical  difficulty,  organized  at  once,  and  secured 
the  second  story  of  the  old  Marion  County  Seminary. 

Their  first  call  was  to  Rev.  S.  Holmes,  of  New  Bedford, 
Mass.;  he  declined.  They  then  invited  Rev.  John  C.  Young,  of 
Danville,  Ky.,  with  like  result.  Their  next  call  was  to  Henry 
Ward  Beecher,  who  became  their  first  pastor.  He  was  then  but 
twenty-six,  looking  still  young,  but  fresh,  rugged,  and  full  of  life. 

To  the  few  survivors  of  that  little  band  who  knew  and  loved 
him  in  those  early  days  we  are  largely  indebted  for  the  impres- 
sion produced  by  his  preaching  in  this  church  and  in  the  com- 
munity, and  for  a  brief  account  of  his  life  among  them. 

"  My  first  recollection  of  Mr.  Beecher,"  said  one  of  his  early 

parishioners,   "was  when  I  was  a  journeyman  printer.     A   man 

named  King  came  to  me  and,  with  much  enthusiasm,  declared  he 

had  heard  the  greatest  preacher  he  had   ever   listened   to  in  his 

181 


1 8  2  BIOGRAPH  Y  OF 

life — a  young  fellow  who   was   preaching  at   the  Marion  County- 
Seminary. 

"1  went  there  and  heard  him  for  the  first  time  in  the  spring  of 
1840, 1  suppose  it  was.  I  was,  like  everybody  else,  perfectly  car- 
ried away  with  him.  I  soon  formed  his  acquaintance,  and,  after 
he  got  to  the  new  church  on  the  Circle,  became  a  member  in  the 
great  revival  of  1842.  I  was  a  printer  when  he  delivered  those 
lectures  to  young  men,  and  in  the  course  of  printing  them  (I  was 
at  work  in  the  shop  where  they  were  published)  I  was  much  in 
contact  with  him.  They  were  published  by  the  old  jobbing 
house  of  E.  Chamberlain,  who  was  afterwards  a  bookseller  here. 
The  Indiana  Farnier  was  printed  in  the  office  where  I  worked, 
published  by  a  Quaker  named  Willis.  Mr.  Beecher  was  really  the 
life  and  soul  of  it — wrote  all  the  articles  in  it  that  were  good  for 
anything.  I  frequently  assisted  him  in  reading  proofs.  He  had 
no  practical  experience  as  an  agriculturist,  except  that  he  was 
thoroughly  alive  to  every  new  thing.  He  took  great  pride  in  rais- 
ing flowers,  and  his  garden  was  full  of  plants  that  had  never 
been  seen  here  before.  During  his  revival  meetings — I  think  as 
much  to  test  my  sincerity  and  earnestness  as  anything  else — he 
invited  me  to  come  to  his  house  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning 
and  breakfast  with  him.  It  was  a  winter  morning  and  before  day- 
light. Mrs.  Beecher  and  the  children  were  up,  everything  in  per- 
fect order,  and  breakfast  ready.  He  called  his  wife  and  children 
together  for  family  worship,  and  spoke  and  prayed  in  simple 
words.  It  seemed  to  me  the  most  beautiful  and  touching  thing  I 
ever  saw  in  my  life.  Mr.  Beecher,  I  thought,  was  even  then 
broad  in  his  ideas  and  the  most  industrious  man  I  ever  knew. 
For  a  time  he  lived  in  one  side  of  a  little  one-story  house  in  the 
alley  half  a  square  north  of  Washington  Street,  between  East  and 
New  Jersey  Streets,  in  the  rear  of  where  the  Jewish  Synagogue 
now  stands.  I  think  there  were  three  rooms.  At  another  time 
he  occupied  a  house  that  stood  near  the  southeast  corner  of 
Pennsylvania  and  New  York  Streets.  He  has  told  me  that  dur- 
ing a  malarial  season  he  preached  when  he  could  hardly  stand 
up,  and,  making  his  way  home,  would,  on  entering  his  door,  fall 
from  exhaustion." 

Another  writing  to  us   savs : 

"I    remember    well    the    occasion   of  his  advent  here    (from 
Lawrenceburg).     Almost  immediately    his    ministry    attracted  a 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  I  S3 

strong  following — quite  too  numerous  and  influential  for  the 
limited  seating  capacity  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  the  chapel  could 
accommodate,  and  a  church  was  erected  for  him  on  the  corner 
of  Market  and  Circle  Street^.  That  was  probably  in  1840.  The 
building  was  regarded  as  a  colossal  edifice,  and,  while  what 
would  now  be  considered  primitive  in  the  extreme,  was  in  the 
main  comfortable  and  inviting.  It  was  the  first  departure  from 
the  orthodox  style  of  high  pulpits,  and  contained  a  low  desk 
and  platform.  From  the  first  his  preaching  and  precept  were  of 
the  beauty  of  holiness  and  praise,  gladness  and  thanksgiving, 
and  to  this  end  he  added  the  attraction  of  music  to  the  service  of 
lesson  and  prayer.  In  those  days  his  choir  was  considered  mag- 
nificent, and  what  the  organ  might  lack  in  volume  was  more  than 
made  up  in  melody  and  soul-reaching  timbre.  He  was  especial- 
ly happy  in  the  selection  of  music  that  seemed  to  be  an  accom- 
paniment to  his  discourse.  He  was  also  the  first  clergyman,  out 
of  the  Episcopal  Church,  to  introduce  chants  in  the  service. 

"  Upon  the  opposite  side  of  The  Circle  from  his  church,  fac- 
ing west,  was  located  the  First  Presbyterian  Church,  the  Rev. 
Phineas  D.  Gurley,  pastor.  I  have  often  heard  them  spoken  of 
as  the  '  two  distinguished  divines  '  who  were  '  the  wheel-horses 
among  theologians.'  They  were  both  leaders.  I  think  that  if 
there  was  one  impression  more  than  another  conveyed  by  Mr. 
Beecher's  appearance  it  was  that  of  reserve  force.  The  steam 
up,  he  was  capable  and  eager  for  the  work  in  hand.  Indeed,  he 
seemed  the  very  personification  of  energy.  I  recall,  however, 
that  he  was  always  neatly  dressed,  usually  in  black,  and  that  he 
was  the  first  clergyman  in  this  part  of  the  country  to  wear  a  soft 
hat.  I  am  not  sure  if  he  did  not  wear  the  first  straw  hat  in  those 
days  of  clerical  conventionality.  He  was  certainly  devoted  to 
comfort,  if  in  no  manner  given  to  taking  his  ease.  I  doubt  if  he 
knew  what  it  was  to  be  idle.  When  apparently  indulging  in  re- 
creation his  active  mind  was  storing  food  for  thought  and  spir- 
itual teaching.  The  lightest  romance  which  caught  his  fancy  (for 
he  was  an  omnivorous  reader)  furnished  material  for  practical 
application. 

"  In  form  he  wras  compactly  built,  with  just  enough  flesh  to 
give  grace  to  his  lithe  and  active  movements.  His  step  was  par- 
ticularly elastic  and  yet  firm.  All  vigor  and  animation,  there 
was  the  rosy  tint  of  health  in  his  complexion,  and  his  eyes  were 


184  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

as  clear  and  bright  as  a  child's.  His  disposition  was  sunny,  and 
the  kindly  grasp  of  his  hand  confirmed  the  charm  of  his  genial 
presence.  It  followed  that  he  was  fond  of  young  people  and  fre- 
quently participated  in  their  romps  and  sports.  I  remember  in  a 
game  of  Copenhagen  at  a  church  picnic  he  was  in  no  way  dis- 
concerted by  being  rolled  over  and  over  down  the  hill  when 
entangled  in  the  rope. 

"  When  need  be  he  could  be  determined  enough.  At  one 
time  a  younger  brother  was  an  inmate  of  his  family,  and  was  a 
classmate  of  mine  at  the  University.  In  the  boy's  judgment  '  all 
work  and  no  play  made  Jack  a  dull  boy,'  and  he  went  fishing  and 
was  gone  two  days.  Instead  of  whetting  his  appetite  for  study 
the  diversion  had  the  opposite  effect,  and  he  openly  declared  he 
would  go  to  school  no  more.  Mr.  Beecher  did  not  waste  words 
on  the  matter,  but  seized  him  and  took  him  by  main  force.  As 
they  drew  near  the  University  the  lad  broke  loose  and  took  to  his 
heels,  Mr.  Beecher  after  him.  The  mud  in  our  streets  at  that 
day  was  something  phenomenal,  and  there  was  a  tussle  in  it, 
when  the  two  closed,  that  sent  the  '  soft  impeachment '  in  every 
direction.  For  a  little  while  the  air  was  filled  with  mud  ;  arms 
and  legs  were  scarcely  distinguishable.  The  authority  of  elder 
brother  prevailed,  carrying  its  point — and  the  younger  brother, 
too — and  handed  him  over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  principal, 
Mr.  Kemper,  who  was  a  rigid  disciplinarian,  and  proverbial  for 
observing  the  Scriptural  injunction  of  not  sparing  the  rod.  The 
youth  was  equal  to  the  occasion,  however.  Equipped  in  extra 
thickness  of  clothing,  he  took  his  punishment  with  most  astonish- 
ing fortitude,  much  to  the  admiration  of  the  other  boys,  whose 
sympathies  were  naturally  enlisted. 

"  This  incident  illustrated  Mr.  Beecher's  indifference  to  ap- 
pearances where  a  duty  was  involved.  He  also  assisted  in  build- 
ing, painting,  and  varnishing  his  house,  and,  if  material  fell  short 
or  heavy  groceries  were  needed,  did  not  hesitate  to  go  after  them 
with  his  wheelbarrow  and  take  them  home.  In  the  single  par- 
ticular of  giving  dignity  to  labor,  if  there  had  been  no  other,  his 
influence  in  the  community  was  invaluable. 

"  As  in  a  notice  of  his  personnel  his  characteristics  first  at- 
tract attention,  so  in  his  ministerial  labors  his  method  of  con- 
version came  before  the  inculcation  of  doctrine. 

"  I  have  spoken  of  his  fondness  for  young  men.      It  was  re- 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  185 

ciprocated  to  a  degree  amounting  to  championship.  His  influ- 
ence wzs  personal  ami  direct.  In  his  revival  work  he  did  not 
trust  entirely  to  church  service.  He  became  personally  ac- 
quainted with  people.  He  had  a  habit  of  taking  long  strolls 
with  men,  ami  what  his  precept  failed  in  his  good  companionship 
made  up.     One  long  walk  generally  captured  the  sinner. 

"  He  did  not  confine  himself  to  Bible  preachments.  I  heard 
his  lectures  to  young  men  in  the  basement  of  the  church,  and 
they  were  so  practical  that  they  reached  every  mind.  He  struck 
yeoman  blows  at  the  evils  of  intemperance,  and  engaged  in  a  con- 
troversy with  an  influential  distiller  of  Lawrenceburg  that  at- 
tracted much  attention  and  was  reported  by  the  press  of  that 
date.  Largely  owing  to  the  sentiment  aroused  by  the  debate,  no 
doubt,  the  distiller  abandoned  his  calling. 

M  He  also  engaged  in  the  publication  of  an  agricultural  paper, 
the  Indiana  Far?ner,  and,  as  far  as  known,  was  the  only  profes- 
sional man  who  ever  put  practical  sense  into  a  periodical  of  the 
sort.  A  keen  lover  of  nature,  he  may  be  said  to  have  put  his 
heart  in  the  work  and  made  it  a  memorable  success. 

"  I  do  not  remember  his  making  any  political  speeches,  al- 
though it  is  well  known  that  his  church  was  the  favorite  resort  of 
statesmen,  who  made  a  study  of  his  oratory  and  diction  for  their 
own  benefit.  I  know  that  he  was  deeply  interested  in  all  chari- 
table enterprises,  particularly  the  benevolent  institutions  that  are 
now  the  pride  of  the  State. 

"  Nor  am  I  aware  that  he  ever  addressed  the  legislative 
bodies  in  particular,  although  the  General  Assembly  men  attended 
his  church  almost  in  a  body.  He  was  known  as  a  Whig,  but  was 
not  pronounced  in  that  direction. 

"  The  heart-felt  interest  he  took  in  the  slavery  question  was 
well  known.  About  the  year  1842  a  roving  commission  of  Aboli- 
tionists from  the  East  visited  Indianapolis.  They  held  a  meeting 
on  the  State  House  grounds,  and  I  remember  seeing  Mr.  Beecher 
a  prominent  figure  on  the  platform. 

"The  unpopularity  of  the  Abolition  cause  at  that  time  cannot 
easily  be  imagined.  To  be  identified  with  it  was  to  be  socially 
ostracized  and  boycotted  generally.  It  required  the  courage  of  a 
martyr  to  be  an  Abolitionist.  As  notable  examples  may  be  cited 
two  physicians  who  were  members  of  Mr.  Beecher's  church.  Bold 
enough  to  avow  their  principles,  they  were  exceedingly  unpopu- 


1 86 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


lar  with  the  masses,  and  in  their  struggle  to  combat  popular  opin- 
ion found  it  extremely  difficult  to  support  themselves  and  fami- 
lies. They  literally  had  no  practice.  The  manner  in  which  Mr. 
Beecher  sustained  himself  on  this  question  was  prophetic  of  the 
personal  hold  he  had  upon  men.     It  was  exceptional. 

"  Meanwhile  his  popularity  both  as  a  preacher  and  man  con- 
tinued to  increase.  Indeed,  his  success  was  without  precedent 
and  has  never  been  rivalled  since.  His  church  was  crowded 
every  Sabbath,  both  by  his  own  congregation  and  visitors  from 
other  and  distant  churches.  Although  the  pew  system  obtained, 
at  least  one-fourth  of  the  seats  (one  entire  section)  was  reserved 
for  young  men  and  strangers.  Among  them  may  be  named  the 
judges  of  the  Supreme,  Federal,  and  local  courts;  distinguished 
professional  men  ;  and  if  there  was  a  Hugh  Miller  of  a  fellow, 
picking  out  truths  of  humanity  from  stone  or  devoting  himself 
like  the  Owens  to  his  fellow-man,  he  would  be  found  in  that  im- 
posing body  of  men.  I  suppose  Indianapolis  could  not  then  boast 
of  more  than  five  thousand  inhabitants,  but  there  was  an  unusual 
aggregate  of  culture  and  refinement,  and  it  was  pretty  sure  to 
find  delight  in  Mr.  Beecher's  preaching  and  service. 

"Asa  rule- his  morning  sermons  were  more  doctrinal  and 
more  confined  to  notes  than-  his  evening  discourse.  In  the  de- 
livery of  all  of  his  sermons,  however,  he  would  at  times  become 
very  much  enthused  and  dramatic. 

"  One  frequent  gesture  that  I  noticed  in  attending  his  last 
lecture  here  he  retained  through  life.  It  was  the  habit  of  raising 
his  right  hand  high  in  air,  and  after  a  pause,  sometimes  prolonged, 
bringing  his  arm  down  sharply  to  his  side.  An  amusing  incident 
once  occurred  in  consequence.  At  the  identical  moment  that 
his  hand  was  raised  a  big,  burly  fellow,  a  member  of  his  congre- 
gation, aroused  from  a  nap  (even  his  eloquence  could  not  keep 
every  man  awake)  and  seeing  the  hand  uplifted,  the  sleepy  lout 
thought  the  benediction  was  being  pronounced.  He  gathered 
himself  up  accordingly  and  marched  toward  the  door,  making  a 
terrible  racket  with  his  squeaking  boots,  to  the  visible  annoyance 
of  the  congregation.  There  was  a  charming  twinkle  of  fun  in 
the  preacher's  eye  as  he  gravely  said:  'If  others  of  the  congre- 
gation desire  to  leave  I  will  wait.'  A  laugh  went  round  the 
audience. 

"In  his  liberal  interpretation  of  the  divine  calling  of  bringing 


RE  I '.  HENR  \ '  WA  KJ>  BEE  i  HER.  I  X  7 

sinners  to  repentance,  some  motley  members,  not  to  say  black 

sheep,  were  gathered  into  the  fold.     Among  these  was  a  lame 

tailor  who  was  a  very    hard  ease    indeed,  but  was  possessed  of  an 

appreciative  soul  and  a  wonderfully  retentive  memory.     He  was 

always   to    be   found    m    his    seat    in    church    and    was   attentive 

enough  to  inspire  a  speaker.  The  following  morning  the  tailor's 
shop  would  be  crowded  to  hear  him  repeat  the  sermon,  or  elo- 
quent passages  thereof.  This  he  would  do,  word  for  word,  and 
with  a  close  imitation  of  voice  and  gesture  that  proved  a  first- 
elass  aetor  had  been  lost  to  the  world  in  the  realm  of  '  the  shears' 
and  'goose.'  A  propensity  for  gambling  that  could  not  be 
checked  was  reported  to  the  church  and  he  was  dropped  from 
the  roll. 

"  Take  them  all  in  all,  Mr.  Beecher's  sermons  in  Indianapolis 
were  marvels  of  logic  and  learning,  graced  by  rare  beauty  of  ex- 
pression and  that  feeling  to  nature  kin  which  touched  the  heart. 
His  usefulness  could  not  be  circumscribed  by  the  then  narrow 
limits.  His  fame  spread  abroad  in  the  land,  and  one  fine 
Sunday  two  or  more  strangers,  with  an  unmistakable  New  York 
air,  appeared  in  the  church.  It  transpired  that  they  were  a  visit- 
ing committee  in  search  of  a  bright  and  shining  pulpit  light,  and 
it  all  ended  in  his  call  to  Brooklyn. 

"Great  were  the  regrets  of  his  congregation  and  the  com- 
munity of  which  he  was  the  great  central  figure  of  interest  and 
influence.  The  impress  he  left  has  not  been  obliterated,  with 
the  growth  of  the  city,  by  the  lapse  of  time.  In  many  respects 
the  city  is  a  monument  to  his  earnest  efforts  to  promote  her  mo- 
ral and  intellectual  development." 

Mr.  Beecher  has  often  remarked  in  later  years  that  his  first 
real  preaching  was  at  Indianapolis.  Although  at  Lawrenceburg 
he  was  noted  for  his  brilliancy  of  diction  and  wonderful  oratori- 
cal power,  and  by  his  good-fellowship  and  the  strong  personal 
interest  which  he  took  in  all  his  people  made  many  and  lasting 
friends,  yet  he  did  not  feel  that  he  was  doing  real,  effective 
work.  "  I  can  preach  so  as  to  make  the  people  come  to  hear 
me,"  said  he  to  good  old  Bishop  Little,  "but  somehow  I  can't 
preach  them  clear  into  the  kingdom." 

A  year  or  two  after  his  removal  to  Indianapolis  he  deter- 
mined to  find  out  what  the  difficulty  was. 

"  We  had  delivered  hundreds  before,  but  until  then  the  ser- 


1 88  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

mon  was  the  end  and  not  the  means.  We  had  a  vague  idea  that 
truth,  was  to  be  preached,  and  then  it  was  to  be  left  to  do  its 
work  under  God's  blessing  as  best  it  might.  The  result  was  not 
satisfying.  Why  should  not  preaching  do  now  what  it  did  in  the 
Apostles'  days?  Why  should  it  be  a  random  and  unrequited 
effort?  These  thoughts  grew,  and  the  want  of  fruits  was  so  pain- 
ful that  we  determined  to  make  a  careful  examination  of  the 
Apostles'  teaching,  to  see  what  made  it  so  immediately  efficient. 
We  found  that  they  laid  a  foundation  first  of  historical  truth 
common  to  them  and  their  auditors  ;  that  this  mass  of  familiar 
truth  was  then  concentrated  upon  the  hearers  in  the  form  of  an 
intense  personal  application  and  appeal  ;  that  the  language  was 
not  philosophical  and  scholastic,  but  the  language  of  common 
life.  We  determined  to  try  the  same.  We  considered  what  moral 
truths  were  admitted  by  everybody  and  gathered  many  of  them 
together.  We  considered  how  they  could  be  so  combined  as 
to  press  men  toward  a  religious  state.  We  recalled  to  mind 
the  character  and  condition  of  many,  who,  we  knew,  would  be 
present,  and  then,  after  as  earnest  a  prayer  as  we  ever  offered, 
and  with  trembling  solicitude,  we  went  to  the  academy  and 
preached  the  new  sermon.  The  Lord  gave  it  power,  and  ten  or 
twelve  persons  were  aroused,  by  it  and  led  ultimately  to  a  reli- 
gious life. 

"This  was  the  most  memorable  day  of  our  ministerial  life. 
The  idea  was  born.  Preaching  was  a  definite  and  practical 
thing.  Our  people  needed  certain  moral  changes.  Preaching 
was  only  a  method  of  enforcing  truths,  not  for  the  sake  of  the 
truths  themselves,  but  for  the  results  to  be  sought  in  men.  Man 
was  the  thing.  Henceforth  our  business  was  to  work  upon  man  ; 
to  study  him,  to  stimulate  and  educate  him.  A  sermon  was  good 
that  had  power  on  the  heart,  and  was  good  for  nothing,  no  matter 
how  good,  that  had  no  moral  power  on  man.  Others  had  learned 
this.  It  was  the  secret  of  success  in  every  man  who  ever  was 
eminent  for  usefulness  in  preaching.  But  no  man  can  inherit 
experience.  It  must  be  born  in  each  man  for  himself.  After 
the  light  dawned  I  could  then  see  how  plainly  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards's sermons  were  so  made.  Those  gigantic  applications  of 
his  were  only  the  stretching  out  of  the  arms  of  the  sermon  upon 
the  lives  and  hearts  of  his  audience.  I  could  see  it  now,  and 
wondered  that  I  had  not  seen  it  before." 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  189 

The  application  of  this,  to  aim,  new  idea  soon  began  to  be 

apparent  in  rich  results. 

A  series  of  revivals  sprang  up,  by  which  many  were  brought 
into  the  church.  From  one  of  Ins  successors  we  learn  that 
"these  were  great  foundation  days  for  the  church.  Strong  re- 
ligious impressions  were  made  upon  the  young  town,  and  very 
many  were  redeemed  to  a  life  of  Christian  service.  These  were 
fruitful  years,  starred  over  by  three  prolific  revivals.  In  the 
spring  oi  1S42  nearly  one  hundred  were  received  ;  again,  in  1843, 
wis  another  spiritual  blessing,  and  once  more  in  1845.  Such 
fruits  vindicate  the  character  and  fervor  of  the  pastoral  activity. 
Many  of  these  converts  are  in  the  church  to-day,  old  men,  testi- 
fying as  elders  and  devout  believers  to  the  genuineness  of  this 
work.  Mr.  Beecher  preached  seventy  nights  in  succession  dur- 
ing one  spring,  in  labors  abundant.  He  ceased  special  effort,  he 
said,  to  permit  many  who  did  not  wish  to  come  out  under  an  ex- 
citement, to  calmly  join  the  church. 

"  Revivals  have  been  characteristic  of  this  church  from  the 
beginning.  They  have  brought  it  steady  and  growing  and  effi- 
cient workers." 

He  wrote  to  his  father  May  1,  1842  : 

"  Prosperity  and  peace  dwell  with  us.  Our  church  is  filled  ; 
our  young  converts  run  well,  and  already  there  is  gathered  in 
material  for  another  revival  of  persons  hitherto  not  wont  to 
attend  church  anywhere. 

a  I  hope  this  fall  and  early  winter  to  see  the  scenes  of  this 
spring  renewed.  The  neighborhoods  about  town  are  also  re- 
vived." 

He  has  told  us  of  one  occasion  when  he  attended  a  meeting 
of  the  Presbytery  with  his  father.  Great  efforts  were  made  at 
these  meetings  to  awaken  a  religious  interest  among  the  people 
especially  in  the  church  where  the  meetings  were  held.  Several 
sermons  had  been  delivered  on  this  occasion,  with  no  great  effect, 
when  he  was  called  upon  to  preach.  He  selected  for  his  subject 
"  The  Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son."  "  As  I  went  on  describing 
the  going  away  of  the  sinner  from  God  the  people  became  inte- 
rested ;  as  I  described  the  sinner's  coming  to  himself  the  interest 
increased  ;  but  when  I  came  to  the  return  of  the  sinner  to  God, 
and  God's  readiness,  even  hastening,  to  receive  him,  the  whole 
audience  broke  down,  and  father,  who  was  on  the  platform  with 


1 90  BIO  GRA  PH  Y  OF 

me,  said,  wiping  his  eyes  and   spectacles,  '  Thank  the  Lord  !  a 

revival  is  begun.'      Mr.  C ,  a  good  brother,  grasped  my  hand 

after  the  sermon  with  great  fervor.  '  You  did  well,  Beecher,  you 
did  well  ;  but  you  ought  to  have  given  'em  salt  instead  of  sugar.' 
But  since  the  salt  had  been  tried  several  days  without  effect,  and 
the  sugar,  as  he  called  my  preaching,  brought  many  to  Christ, 
I  did  not  agree  with  him." 

His  zealous  labors  were  by  no  means  confined  to  Indianapolis 
He  was  constantly  called    to    help    in    the    towns    and    villages 
throughout  the  centre  of  the  State.     One,  two,  and  even  three 
weeks  at  a  time  he  would  be  gone,  laboring  to  help  some  brother 
striving  to  awaken  his  people. 

Terre  Haute,  Madison,  Greenwood,  Greencastle,  Lafayette, 
Logansport,  Fort  Wayne,  Laporte,  and  Columbus  are  the  names 
we  find  most  frequently  endorsed  on  the  manuscript  notes  of  his 
old  revival  sermons  now  before  us.  These  were  the  days  he 
loved  to  look  back  upon  ;  though  full  of  hardship,  privations,  and 
not  a  little  suffering,  they  were  also  full  of  that  great  joy  which 
comes  to  those  who  labor  successfully  in  winning  souls. 

Revisiting  Terre  Haute  in  one  of  his  lecture  tours  many 
years  afterward,  and  for  the  first  time  after  coming  East,  he  writes 
back  : 

"And  now  my  face  is  turned  homeward  !  I  am  bound  to 
Terre  Haute — clear  across  the  prairie  that  I  once  traversed  in 
early  days.  Farm  touches  farm  over  these  wide  expanses  which, 
forty  years  ago,  I  thought  could  never  be  inhabited  !  No  coal, 
no  timber — how,  except  along  the  streams,  could  men  settle  and 
thrive  ?  Railroads,  those  dry  and  solid  rivers,  have  solved  the 
problem. 

"Is  this  Terre  Haute?  How  has  thy  prosperity  increased 
and  thy  beauty  diminished  ! 

"I  wandered  up  and  down  the  streets  to  find  my  Terre  Haute! 
It  was  gone,  covered  up,  lost,  utterly  lost,  in  new  streets,  new 
buildings  !  Where  is  the  former  green  ?  Where  the  quiet  fields 
within  bowshot  of  the  town  ? 

"  At  any  rate,  I  shall  know  the  church.  There  it  was  that  I 
first  wrought  in  revivals,  and  every  board  and  nail  in  it  was  pre- 
cious. I  found  it.  I  entered  by  the  basement  side-door  and 
stood  in  the  lecture-room  where  I  preached  my  first  sermon,  the 
same  day  of  my  arrival  in  town,  to  aid  Rev.  Dr.  Jewett.     It  was 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER. 

a  solemn  feeling   that   stole   over   me,      I    saw  the  audience  again. 

The  seats  were  tilled  with  shadowy  listeners  !  It  only  needed  to 
see  a  tew  of  the  familiar  faces — L.  H.  Scott,  Dr.  Ketcham,  Hall, 
Gookin,  and  others — to  make  it  real  again  !  Just  then  came  op 
the  aisle  Harry  Ross  himself  !  It  was  the  touch  needed  to  round 
out  the  reminiscence.  Only  one  fact  disturbed  the  sweet  illusion. 
This  was  not  the  same  church.  The  old  one  had  been  burned, 
and  this  one  took  its  place  !  It  was  a  gentle  shock  to  my  sensi- 
bilities. But  it  stood  on  the  very  ground,  and  was  on  the  old 
foundations,  and  upon  the  same  plan,  and  looked  like  the  old 
one,  and  so  I  inwardly  voted  that  it  was  the  old  one  and  took  my 
comfort  of  it  !  The  city  is  wonderfully  improved  in  every  way 
except  to  those  sentimentalists  who  come  hither  to  renew  the 
past  and  live  over  again  old  experiences. 

"  After  the  lecture,  in  a  special  train,  we  sped,  through  dark- 
ness and  storm,  to  Indianapolis — three  hours'  blessed  ride.  How 
different  this  midnight  ride  from  the  first  one,  thirty-five  years 
before  !  For  three  weeks  I  had  labored  side  by  side  with  Bro- 
ther Jewett — the  first  revival  in  which  I  had  ever  taken  part  ! 
How  helpless  and  wretched  did  I  feel  when  Jewett  sent  for  me — 
then  newly  settled  in  Indianapolis — to  come  over  and  help  him  ! 
I  had  no  effective  sermons.  I  did  not  know  how  to  preach  in  a 
revival.  Yet  my  elders  said,  Go.  I  rode  two  days  the  lonely 
road,  through  beech  forests  (now  all  gone),  in  a  dazed  and  won- 
dering state.  Hardly  was  my  saddle  empty  before  Jewett  was  at 
my  elbow.  'You  have  done  well  to  come.  You  must  preach  to- 
night.' In  a  moment  the  cloud  lifted.  The  reluctance  was 
gone.  It  has  been  so  all  my  life.  At  a  distance  I  dread  and 
brood  and  shrink  from  any  weighty  enterprise  ;  but  the  moment 
the  occasion  arrives  joy  shines  clear,  and  an  eager  appetite  to 
dash  into  the  battle  comes. 

"  Three  memorable  weeks  at  a  time  when  events  stamp  the 
memory  and  the  heart  as  the  die  stamps  the  coin  !  When  the 
time  came  to  return  home  did  ever  heart  swell  with  stronger  and 
more  unutterable  feeling  ?  To  go  back  to  the  ordinary  round  of 
church  life  from  this  glowing  centre  seemed  so  intolerable  that 
my  whole  nature  and  all  my  soul  rose  up  in  uncontrollable  pray- 
er. Through  the  beech  woods,  sometimes  crying,  sometimes 
singing,  and  always  praying,  I  rode  in  one  long  controversy  with 
God.     '  Slay  me  if  Thou  wilt,  but  do  not  send  me  home  to  bar- 


I92  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

renness.  Thou  shalt  go  with  me.  I  will  not  be  refused.  I  am 
not  afraid  of  Thee  !  I  will  prevail  or  die  !  ' — these  and  even 
wilder  strains  went  through  the  soul. 

"  At  length  the  clouds  rolled  away.  The  heavens  had  never 
seemed  so  beautiful  and  radiant.  An  unspeakable  peace  and 
confidence  filled  my  soul.  The  assurance  of  victory  was  perfect, 
and  tranquillity  blossomed  into  joy  at  every  step.  The  first  day 
was  one  long  struggle  of  prayer.  The  second  day  was  one  long 
ecstasy  of  joy  and  thanksgiving  !  I  need  not  say  to  the  wise  that 
the  fire  of  my  heart  kindled  in  the  church,  and  for  months  the 
genial  warmth  brought  forth  a  spiritual  summer,  so  that  flowers 
and  fruit  abounded  in  the  garden  of  the  Lord. 

"  And  now  in  this  three-hour  midnight  ride,  amid  outward 
storms  but  inward  joy  and  thanksgiving,  I  recalled  the  old  days, 
and  mingled  their  light  with  the  gladness  of  the  passing  hour." 

Referring  to  a  revival  at  Terre  Haute — perhaps  the  one  just 
mentioned — Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  wrote  : 

"  The  revival  here  under  Henry's  administration  and  preach- 
ing was,  in  the  adaptation  of  means  and  happy  results,  one  of  the 
most  perfectly  conducted  and  delightful  that  I  have  ever 
known." 

We  can  get  some  slight  idea  of  the  hard  physical  labor  he 
endured  in  his  ordinary  home  preaching  by  quoting  a  single  page 
of  his  "  Sermon  Record  Book  " — a  not  unusual  record  : 

u  Oct.  22.   Rode  36  miles  ;  Adams'  neighborhood  by  noon.     Eve- 
ning rode  five  miles  to  Franklin  ;  preached  on  Faith. 

"    23.   Rode  back  to  Adams,  and  at    io}4  preached  ordination 
of  Stimson  :   Duties  of  Pastor. 

"   24.   Sunday  morning  and  evening,  our  church. 

"   26.   Funeral  of  Mrs.  Jennison. 

u  31.   Twice — once  on  Baptism. 
Nov.  7.   Morning,  baptism;  p.m..  funeral. 

M   11.  Rode  8  miles  to  Brewer's  and  preached  ;  home  again. 

'   12.   Rode  8  miles  to  X.  Prov.  Ch.;  preached,  and  home. 

"  13.   Preached  morning  and  night,  and  rode  5  miles  to  M ; 

p.m.,  10  miles,  preached  3  times  a  day." 

At  this  time  he  undertook  a  minute  and  careful  analysis  of 
the  Gospels  : 

"  I  took  the  New  Testament,  I  read  it  diligently,  I  made  my- 


RE  /'.  HENRY  1 1  A  RD  B  E  E  i  WE  A\  i  9  3 

sell  familiar  with  the  life  and  teachings  of  Christ,  I  be<  ame  satu- 
rated with  the  spirit  of  the  tour  Gospels,  1  obtained  all  the  helps 
1  could  get  for  their  interpretation,  and  I  have  now  in  my  drawer 

a  heap  of  manuscripts  in  which  1  have  condensed  and  compiled 
these  Gospels,  everything  in  them  being  conveniently  arranged 
for  use.  ll  was  an  immense  work.  These  four  Gospels  had,  as 
it  were,  been  eaten  and  digested  by  me  and  gone  into  my  blood 
and  bones. 

"  It  was  while  I  was  engaged  in  this  work  that  Christ  was 
brought  to  my  soul  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  with  a  sweetness 
and  beauty,  with  a  vividness  and  glory,  that  for  the  time  trans- 
formed the  heavens  and  the  earth  to  my  eyes.  I  had  a  concep- 
tion of  the  depths  of  the  nature  of  the  Divine  Being  tli.it  made 
metaphysical  doctrines  and  philosophical  formulas  more  repug- 
nant to  me  than  they  had  ever  been  before,  and  I  entered  into  a 
vow  and  covenant  that  if  I  were  permitted  to  preach  I  would 
know  nothing  but  Christ  and  Him  crucified  among  His  people. 
I  took  my  horse  and  saddle-bags  and  traversed  the  wilderness  of 
Indiana,  keeping  that  view  in  my  mind.  For  eight  or  ten  years 
I  labored  for  the  poor  and  needy,  in  cabins,  in  camp  meetings, 
through  woods,  up  and  down,  sometimes  riding  two  days  to 
meet  my  appointments.  I  had  no  books  but  my  Bible,  and  I 
went  from  one  to  the  other — from  the  Bible  to  men,  and  from 
men  to  the  Bible.  When  a  case  came  up  I  said  to  myself  : 
'  What  will  reach  that  case  ? '  and  I  looked  through  the  Acts  of 
the  Apostles  to  see  how  they  reached  such  cases.  I  hunted  the 
Bible  through  in  order  to  get  at  the  right  way.  So  I  worked  on, 
and  at  last  the  habit  was  formed  in  my  mind  of  studying  men, 
their  dispositions,  their  wants,  their  peculiarities ;  and  then  I 
worked  with  reference  to  curing  them,  not  constructing  a  system, 
but  striving  to  produce  righteousness  in  the  individual  and  in 
communities." 

It  is  said  that  in  his  preaching  he  often  went  double-loaded. 
He  would  go  to  church  with  a  sermon  specially  prepared  for 
some  person  whom  he  greatly  desired  to  reach.  If,  however,  he 
was  not  present,  he  would  preach  a  more  general  sermon.  But 
when,  on  some  other  occasion,  he  found,  on  entering  church,  that 
the  object  of  his  solicitude  was  present,  he  would  lay  aside  the 
sermon  prepared  for  that  day  and  preach  the  special  one. 

It  often  occasioned  no  little  surprise  in  the  mind  of  the  sub- 


I  9  4  BIO  GRA  PI1 Y  OF 

ject  that  Mr.  Beecher  should  have  happened  that  day  to  preach  a 
sermon  so  exactly  fitted  to  his  case. 

Although  he  had  the  strongest  feelings  of  love  and  kindliness 
toward  mankind,  both  in  the  abstract  and  the  concrete,  vet  he 
never  hesitated  to  lash  with  stinging  words  any  who  took  advan- 
tage of  their  strength  to  abuse  another's  weakness.  And  in  such 
a  case  nothing  could  induce  him  to  back  down  or  withdraw  from 
the  attack,  unless  he  could  be  satisfied  that  he  had  been  mistaken 
in  his  facts. 

One  noticeable  incident  of  the  kind  occurred  during  his  min- 
istry in  Indianapolis,  as  narrated  by  Mrs.  Beecher  : 

A  man  in  the  city  hotel,  and  not  a  little  feared  because  of  his 
brutality  had  done  something  more  brutal  than  usual,  and,  the 
facts  coming  to  Mr.  Beecher's  knowledge,  in  his  sermon  on  the 
following  Sunday  he  expressed  in  no  gentle  terms  his  abhorrence 
of  the  act,  and  in  very  strong  language  rebuked  the  man. 

Many  of  his  listeners  were  alarmed  lest  the  man  would,  when 
he  heard  of  the  sermon,  do  Mr.  Beecher  some  injury. 

Of  course  before  the  day  was  over  the  substance  in  the  ser- 
mon had  been  reported  throughout  the  town,  and  did  not  fail  to 
reach  the  man's  ears. 

Monday  morning  Mr.  Beecher  went  to  the  post-office  imme- 
diately after  breakfast,  and  must  go  right  by  the  hotel  around 
which  this  man  would  most  likely  be  hanging.  He  got  his  mail 
and  turned  to  come  home.  As  he  passed  the  hotel  there  were  sev- 
eral standing  by,  evidently  watching  for  some  development.  At 
that  moment  the  man  came  down  the  steps  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand. 

"  Did  you  say  thus  and  so  in  your  sermon  yesterday  ?" 

"I  did." 

"  Did  you  intend  those  remarks  for  me,  or  were  you  mean- 
ing me  ? " 

"  I  most  certainly  did." 

"Then  take  it  back  right  here,  or   by I'll  shoot  you  on 

the  spot." 

"Shoot  away,"  was  the  reply,  as.  looking  the  ruffian  sternly 
in  the  face,  Mr.  Beecher  calmly,  with  deliberate  step,  walked  past 
the  man.  With  pointed  pistol  and  fierce  oaths  the  man  followed 
for  a  few  paces,  when,  baffled  by  the  imperturbable  coolness  of 
his  opponent,  he  slunk  away  down  a  side-street,  ashamed  to  re- 
turn to  the  hotel. 


. 


RE  I '.  HENR  \ '  WA  RD  BEE  c  'HER.  1 9  5 

Mr.  Beecher  himself  has  given  us  an  account  of  another  simi- 
lar event  : 

"  I  remember  that  in  Indianapolis  there  was  a  meeting  called 
for   the  enforcement  of   the   laws   against   gamblers   and   against 

.-selling,  at  which  I  was  requested  to  address  mechanics  and 
laborers  ;  and  some  of  these  violators  of  the  law  were  there.  A 
man  named  Bishop,  and  others  of  that  stamp,  were  in  the  meet- 
ing to  hear  what  was  going  to  be  said.  They  were  the  very  men 
that  we  were  aiming  at.  I  was  much  excited.  There  were  gam- 
bling-dens and  liquor-saloons  where  young  men  were  induced  to 
drink  and  form  bad  habits,  and  were  in  danger  of  being  dragged 
down  to  destruction  ;  and  I  expressed  myself  plainly,  and  point- 
ed to  Bishop,  who  sat  on  a  back  seat,  and  denounced  him  to  his 
face.  There  was  a  lively  time,  if  I  recollect  right ;  and  he  gave 
out  the  next  day  that  when  he  and  I  met  one  or  the  other  of  us 
was  going  to  be  whipped.  I  went  down  the  street  soon  after,  and 
I  had  forgotten  all  about  it  until  I  was  right  in  front  of  his  shop. 
He  was  a  bully.  He  watched  me  as  I  came  down,  and  I  con- 
fess that  my  first  thought  was  a  wish  that  I  was  not  there  ;  but 
then  it  would  never  do  for  me  to  flinch,  and  I  walked  as  though 
I  did  not  see  him  till  I  came  close  to  him,  when  I  turned  and 
looked  at  him.  He  thought  I  was  going  to  attack  him,  and  wait- 
ed a  moment  ;  I  bowed  and  said,  '  Good-morning,  Mr.  Bishop/ 
and  passed  on.  He  would  not  run  after  me  and  hit  me,  and  so 
the  affair  blew  over. 

"A  year  or  two  after  that  I  left  Indianapolis  and  went  up  the 
river,  and  he  chanced  to  be  on  the  boat  with  me  ;  and  there 
never  was  a  man  that  paid  me  more  kind  attention  than  he  did. 
He  looked  after  my  children  here  and  there,  guarded  me  at  night, 
and  wanted  me  to  drink  with  him — some  soda-water.  He  opened 
his  whole  heart  to  me,  and  told  me  how  he  felt  at  the  time  of 
my  remarks,  how  he  felt  the  next  day,  and  how  he  had  come 
to  feel  since.  He  said  he  knew  he  was  carrying  on  a  wicked 
trade,  that  he  was  mad  with  himself,  and  that  he  was  mad  with 
me,  and  told  me  what  it  was  that  induced  him  to  stop.  I 
found  that  under  his  love  of  gam,  which  had  led  him  to  sell 
liquor,  there  was  a  conscience,  a  heart,  and  a  good  deal  of 
kindness." 

During  the  latter  part  of  his  ministry  in  Indianapolis  the 
Presbyterian  clergymen  had  been  requested  by  the  presbytery  to 


I96  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

preach  at  least  one  sermon  during  the  year  on  slavery.  Agree- 
ably to  this  suggestion  Mr.  Beecher  prepared  three  sermons  on 
this  subject.  He  waited  until  the  United  States  Federal  Court 
came  there,  with  Judge  McLean  as  the  presiding  judge ;  and 
when  all  of  the  State  courts,  Supreme  Court  and  Circuit,  were  in 
session  and  the  Legislature  was  convened — so  that  all  lawyers 
and  public  officers,  men  of  every  kind,  thronged  the  city — he  an- 
nounced that  he  should  preach  on  slavery. 

From  the  original  manuscript  before  us  we  learn  that  he  pre- 
sented his  subject  in  three  sermons.  In  the  first  he  discussed 
ancient  slavery,  especially  among  the  Hebrews,  its  origin,  meth- 
ods, and  final  abandonment.  In  his  second  he  presented  "the 
doctrine  and  practice  of  the  New  Testament  in  respect  to 
slavery." 

In  his  last  he  discussed  the  moral  aspects  of  slavery  and  its 
effect  upon  the  community.  These  sermons  made  a  profound 
impression  on  the  public  mind.  Indiana  was  just  over  the  bor- 
der of  slaveland,  and  many  of  its  people  sympathized  heartily 
with  the  slave-holders.  The  prevailing  sentiment  was  very  bitter 
against  the  Abolitionists.  There  was  very  little  patience  with 
such  "  cranks  "  and  "fanatics."  So  when  Mr.  Beecher  attacked 
slavery  with  the  same  unsparing  earnestness  which  characterized 
his  utterances  on  this  subject  in  latter  days — for  he  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  denounce  it  as  a  crime  against  God  and  man — he  stirred 
up  a  very  large  and  very  energetic  hornet's  nest.  The  city  was  all 
excitement.  Men  talked  of  nothing  else.  The  friends  of  slavery 
were  bitter  and  threatening  ;  the  few  friends  of  freedom,  overawed 
by  the  threatening  demonstrations,  held  their  peace  and  waited 
to  see  the  outcome.  Mr.  Beecher  stood  almost  alone.  Many  of 
the  church-brethren  were  shocked  and  grieved  beyond  all  ex- 
pression ;  some  even  felt  so  outraged  as  to  send  for  letters  of 
dismissal.  Many  prophesied  that  he  had  destroyed  himself  and 
ended  his  influence  for  usefulness  for  ever,  mourning  over  his 
speedy  downfall — a  mournful  prophecy  so  often  repeated  in 
after-years  by  timid  brothers  whenever  he  took  any  advanced 
position,  and  with  the  same  results   as  in  this  instance. 

Holding  the  United  States  Circuit,  then  in  session,  was  Judge 
McLean,  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court,  whose  views  upon 
all  public  questions  were  naturally  held  in  high  esteem.  The 
hotel  where  he  was  stopping  was  full  of  lawyers  and  members  of 


REV.   HENRY   HARD   BEECH ER. 


197 


the  Legislature.  On  the  Monday  morning  after  these  Bermons,  in 
angry  and  excited  groups,  they  stood  in  the  public  rooms  of  the 
hotel,  talking  about  the  three  sermons  which  had  thrown  the  town 
into  such  a  ferment.  The  judge,  happening  to  join  one  of  these 
-roups,  was  asked  his  opinion.  Instead  of  denouncing  Mr. 
Beecher's  bold  stand  as  madness,  he  calmly  but  with  decisive 
emphasis  replied  :  "Well,  I  think  if  every  minister  in  the  United 
States  would  be  as  faithful  it  would  be  a  great  advance  in  set- 
tling this  question."  The  judge's  words  spread  as  rapidly  as 
had  the  sermons.  They  checked  the  flow  of  bitter  criticism. 
Men  stopped  talking  and  began  to  think  ;  before  the  day  was 
out  a  revulsion  of  feeling  set  in.  Many  of  the  most  hostile  found 
their  anger  changing  into  admiration — not  convinced  by  Mr. 
Beecher's  logic,  but  deeply  impressed  by  his  pluck.  Those  who 
shared  his  views  felt  emboldened  to  speak  out ;  and  that  middle 
class,  the  social  weather-vanes  who  like  to  go  with  the  majority, 
soon  felt  the  changing  breeze  and  began  veering  around  to  his 
side.  The  timid  church-members  took  heart,  the  applications  for 
letters  of  dismissal  were  recalled.  The  tide  that  threatened  to 
overwhelm  the  plucky  preacher  only  lifted  him  up  and  carried 
him  the  higher  in  public  estimation.  This  was  the  first  demon- 
stration of  his  ability  to  face  and  overcome  an  adverse  public 
sentiment  while  championing  a  just  but  unpopular  cause — an 
experience  many  times  repeated  in  the  forty  years  that  followed. 
Sometimes  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  stand  against  the  flood 
poured  out  upon  him.  Then  the  consciousness  of  right  made 
him  strong  and  gave  him  that  great  peace  that  no  whirlwind  of 
adversity  could  destroy,  and  roused  up  in  him  a  determination 
to  only  work  the  harder. 

It  was  while  in  Indianapolis  that  he  began  his  first  real  lite- 
rary work.  It  is  true  that  he  did  some  editorial  work  while  at 
Lane  Seminary,  but  that  was  too  short-lived  and  occasional  to  be 
regarded  as  regular  literary  occupation. 

Here  at  Indianapolis  he  accepted  the  editorial  chair  of  the 
Indiana  Farmer  and  Gardener,  and,  as  we  are  assured  by  those 
who  were  readers  of  that  journal,  threw  around  the  subjects 
therein  discussed  a  brightness  of  humor  and  fancy  that  made 
the  otherwise  dry  topics  of  fodder,  fertilizers,  and  plantings  seem 
new  and  interesting  subjects. 

"  It  may  be  of  some  service  to  the  young,   as  showing  how 


I98  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

valuable  the  fragments  of  time  may  become,  if  mention  is  made 
of  the  way  in  which  we  became  prepared  to  edit  this  journal. 

"  The  continued  taxation  of  daily  preaching,  extending 
through  months,  and  once  through  eighteen  consecutive  months 
without  the  exception  of  a  single  day,  began  to  wear  upon  the 
nerves,  and  made  it  necessary  for  us  to  seek  some  relaxation. 
Accordingly  we  used,  after  each  week-night's  preaching,  to  drive 
the  sermon  out  of  our  heads  by  some  alterative  reading. 

"  In  the  State  Library  were  Loudon's  works — his  encyclopae- 
dias of  Horticulture,  of  Agriculture,  and  of  Architecture.  We 
fell  upon  them,  and  for  years  almost  monopolized  them. 

"  In  our  little  one-story  cottage,  after  the  day's  work  was 
done,  we  pored  over  these  monuments  of  an  almost  incredible 
industry,  and  read,  we  suppose,  not  only  every  line  but  much  of 
it  many  times  over  ;  until  at  length  we  had  a  topographical 
knowledge  of  many  of  the  fine  English  estates  quite  as  intimate, 
we  dare  say,  as  was  possessed  by  many  of  their  truant  owners. 
There  was  something  exceedingly  pleasant,  and  is  yet,  in  the 
studying  over  mere  catalogues  of  flowers,  trees,  fruits,  etc. 

"  A  seedsman's  list,  a  nurseryman's  catalogue,  are  more  fas- 
cinating to  us  than  any  story.  In  this  way,  through  several 
years,  we  gradually  accumulated  materials  and  became  familiar 
with  facts  and  principles,  which  paved  the  way  for  our  editorial 
labors.  Lindley's  '  Horticulture  '  and  Gray's  '  Structural  Botany ' 
came  in  as  constant  companions.  And  when,  at  length,  through 
a  friend's  liberality,  we  became  the  recipients  of  the  London 
Gardener  s  Chronicle,  edited  by  Prof.  Lindley,  our  treasures  were 
inestimable.  Many  hundred  times  have  we  lain  awake  for  hours 
unable  to  throw  off  the  excitement  of  preaching,  and  beguiling 
the  time  with  imaginary  visits  to  the  Chiswick  Garden,  to  the 
more  than  oriental  magnificence  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire's 
grounds  at  Chatsworth.  We  have  had  long  discussions  in  that 
little  bed-room  at  Indianapolis,  with  Van  Mons  about  pears,  with 
Vibert  about  roses,  with  Thompson  and  Knight  of  fruits  and 
theories  of  vegetable  life,  and  with  Loudon  about  everything  un- 
der the  heavens  in  the  horticultural  world. 

"  This  employment  of  waste  hours  not  only  answered  a  pur- 
pose of  soothing  excited  nerves  then,  but  brought  us  into  such 
relations  to  the  material  world  that  we  speak  with  entire  modera- 
tion whtn  we  say  that  all  the   estates  of  the  richest  duke  in  Eng- 


A'El'.  HENRY  WARD   BEECH ER 


W 


[and  could  not  have  given  us  half  the  pleasure  which  we  have 

derived  i'rom  pastures,,  waysides,  and  unoccupied  prairies." 

He  was  an  earnest  advocate  of  manual  labor.  He  had  no 
patience  with  those  whose  squeamish  effeminacy  made  them  Look 
upon  labor  as  degrading. 

On  the  fly-leaves  of  his  "  Editorial  Agricultural  Book,"  be- 
gun January  10,  1845,  he  wrote  : 

"It  is  my  deliberate  conviction  that  physical  labor  is  indis- 
pensable to  intellectual  and  moral  health,  that  the  industrial  and 
producing  interests  of  society  are  powerfully  conservative  of  mo- 
rals. Especially  do  I  regard  the  tillage  of  the  soil  as  conducive 
to  life,  health,  morals,  and  manhood.  I  sympathize  with  the  ad- 
vance of  society  through  practical  physical  labors  more  than  I  do 
through  metaphysical  speculations.  I  obtain  clearer  views  of  re- 
ligious truth  through  my  sympathies  with  men  and  their  life  than  I 
do  through  books  a?id  their  t/ioug/its.  Nor  do  I  think  any  theology 
will  be  sound  which  is  made  in  the  closet.  It  should  be  made  in 
the  street,  shop,  ship,  office,  and  on  the  farm.  I  have  followed 
both  inclination  and  conviction  in  allying  myself  to  the  laboring 
s." 

His  knowledge  on  the  subject  of  farming  was  not  altogether 
theoretic.     One  of  his  old  parishioners  writes  us  : 

"He  loved  to  work  and  toil,  especially  in  his  own  garden. 
He  always  had  the  earliest  vegetables  in  the  market,  and  his  gar- 
den was  better  than  any  other  in  the  city.  He  loved  to  work 
among  his  flowers,  and  could  call  every  flower  by  its  name  readi- 
ly. I  think  that  he  loved  his  flowers  and  took  more  pleasure 
with  them  than  anything  else,  excepting  his  family.  He  certainly 
was  more  devoted  to  his  family  than  any  man  I  ever  saw." 

It  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  him  to  take  his  vegetables  to 
the  market  before  daylight,  sometimes,  as  an  especial  favor, 
taking  his  little  five-year-old  girl  with  him. 

From  the  report  of  the  fall  exhibition  of  the  Indiana  Horti- 
cultural Society  we  learn  that  Mr.  Beecher  took  the  three  first 
prizes  for  the  best  exhibition  of  squashes,  beets,  and  oyster-plants. 
His  beets,  it  is  stated,  weighed  from  eight  to  fourteen  pounds. 

The  literary  production  which  first  attracted  any  general 
attention  was  his  "  Lectures  to  Young  Men."  The  State 
capital  seemed  to  be  the  headquarters  for  all  those  forms  of  temp- 
tation and  vice  which  are  particularly  liable  to  undermine  the 


200  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

morals  of  the  young.  Many  a  young  man,  whose  future  seemed 
bright  with  the  promise  of  an  honorable  and  useful  life,  had  Mr. 
Beecher  seen  swept  from  his  feet  and  whirled  away  to  a  dishon- 
orable end — young  men  who  might  have  been  saved  had  some 
one  been  able  to  show  them  the  dangers  of  the  paths  they  were 
treading,  whose  beginnings  seemed  so  pleasant  and  fair.  Greatly 
distressed  at  what  he  saw,  he  finally  determined  to  deliver  a  se- 
ries of  lectures  intended  primarily  for  young  men,  and  for  the 
purpose  of  opening  their  eyes.  These  were  subsequently  revised 
and  published,  under  the  title  of  "  Lectures  to  Young  Men." 
The  purpose  of  these  lectures  he  aptly  indicated  in  his  preface : 

"  When  a  son  is  sent  abroad  to  begin  life  for  himself,  what 
gift  would  any  parent  consider  excessive  to  him  who  should  sit 
down  by  his  side  and  open  the  several  dangers  of  his  career,  so 
that  the  young  man  should,  upon  meeting  the  innumerable  covert 
forms  of  vice,  be  able  to  penetrate  their  disguises,  and  to  experi- 
ence, even  for  the  most  brilliant  seductions,  a  hearty  and  intelli- 
gent disgust  ? 

"  Having  watched  the  courses  of  those  who  seduce  the  young 
— their  arts,  their  blandishments,  their  pretences — having  wit- 
nessed the  beginning  and  consummation  of  ruin,  almost  in  the 
same  year,  of  many  young  men,  naturally  well  disposed,  whose 
downfall  began  with  the  appearances  of  innocence,  I  felt  an  ear- 
nest desire,  if  I  could,  to  raise  the  suspicion  of  the  young  and  to 
direct  their  reason  to  the  arts  by  which  they  are  with  such  facility 
destroyed. 

"  I  ask  every  young  man  who  may  read  this  book  not  to  sub- 
mit his  judgment  to  mine,  not  to  hate  because  I  denounce,  nor 
blindly  to  follow  me,  but  to  weigh  my  reason,  that  he  may  form 
his  own  judgment.  I  only  claim  the  place  of  a  companion  ;  and, 
that  I  may  gain  his  ear,  I  have  sought  to  present  truth  in  those 
forms  which  best  please  the  young  ;  and  though  I  am  not  with- 
out hope  of  satisfying  the  aged  and  the  wise,  my  whole  thought 
has  been  to  carry  with  me  the  intelligent  sympathy  of  young  men.'" 

He  dedicated  the  book  to  his  father — 


LYMAN    BEECHER,  D.D. 

To  you  I  owe  more  than  to  any  other  living  being.     In  childhood 
you  were  my  Parent,  in  later  life  my  Teacher,  in  manhood  my 


RE  l '.  HENR  V  WARD   BEEi  HER.  20 1 

Companion.     To  your  affectionate  vigilance  I  owe  nay  principles, 

mv  knowledge,  and  that   I  am  a   minister  of  the  Gospel   of  Christ. 

For  whatever  profit  they  derive  from  this  Hook  the  young  will 
be  indebted  to  you." 

Our  space  forbids  any  attempt  at  reproducing  or  analyzing 

these  le<  Hires. 

'The  evils  that  he  attacked  were  real,  and  he  did  not  mince 
matters  in  the  assault.  In  the  course  of  his  lectures  some  of  his 
good  people,  including  one  or  two  of  the  elders,  thought  that  he 
was  too  plain  and  outspoken  in  his  description  of  the  temptations 
and  dangers  that  beset  the  young,  and  undertook  to  advise  him, 
suggesting  that  he  should  be  more  prudent  in  the  forms  of  his  ex- 
pressions. He  expressed  regret  that  he  should  differ  with  them, 
but  he  proposed,  he  said,  to  treat  the  subject  as  he  thought  he 
ought,  without  regard  to  any  instructions  given.  He  did  not  pro- 
pose to  fight  a  mad  dog  with  a  handful  of  straw.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  timidity  of  his  advisers,  it  appears,  from  the  universal 
testimony  of  those  who  heard  them,  that  they  did  great  good, 
awakening  the  community  to  the  dangers  he  exposed. 

He  was  earnestly  urged  to  revise  and  print  them,  "  that  their 
usefulness  may  be  extended  beyond  the  place  of  their  delivery." 

His  first  attempts  at  their  revision  were  not  at  all  satisfactory 
to  him,  for  he  said  afterwards  : 

"  I  remember,  when  I  was  reading  over  my  lectures  to  young 
men,  with  the  intention  of  printing  them,  that  I  took  down  a  vol- 
ume of  Dr.  Barrow's  sermons  and  read  two  on  the  subject  of 
1  Industry  and  Idleness.'  I  had  two  lectures  on  similar  subjects 
that  I  thought  of  publishing,  but  they  seemed  to  me  so  mean  in 
the  comparison  that  I  took  up  the  manuscript  and  fired  it  across 
the  room  and  under  the  book-case,  where  it  lay  I  do  not  know 
how  long,  and  said  :  '  I  am  not  going  to  put  those  lectures  into 
print  and  make  an  ass  of  myself.'  I  thought  that  I  would  be  a 
fool  to  think  there  was  anything  in  them  worth  publishing.  Af- 
terwards, however,  a  volume  of  lectures  to  young  men  was  lent  to 
me,  and  when  I  read  them  they  seemed  so  thin  and  wreak  that 
I  said  :  '  If  these  are  acceptable  to  the  public  and  will  do  good 
I  think  I  can  print  mine.'  " 

The  many  editions  published  in  this  country  and  England 
justified  his  final  conclusion. 

Although  his  salary  had  been  doubled  on  coming  to  Indiana- 


202  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

polis,  had  he  received  it  all  it  would  hardly  have  kept  pace  with 
his  necessities.  Many  little  necessities  incident  to  their  new 
surroundings  called  for  expense.  In  the  State  capital  two  rooms 
over  a  stable  would  hardly  meet  the  requirements  of  his  social 
surroundings.  It  became  necessary  to  hire  an  entire  house,  the 
spare  rooms  of  which  were  devoted  to  boarders  whose  rent  helped 
out  the  slender  family  purse.  The  house  needed  painting  ;  why 
hire  a  painter  ?  He  could  do  it  himself.  Was  he  not  born  and 
brought  up  in  sturdy  old  Xew  England,  where  every  lad  was  ex- 
pected, almost  from  the  day  he  was  weaned,  to  take  care  of  him- 
self and  add  his  labor  to  increase  the  common  good  ;  where  a 
man  was  thought  wanting  in  ordinary  u  cuteness  "  who  could  not 
turn  his  hand  to  any  job  and  do  anything  he  had  seen  another  do? 

Off  he  starts  to  the  paint-store  with  his  old  horse  and  wagon, 
entering  so  enthusiastically  upon  the  work  in  hand  that  he  wholly 
forgot  an  engagement,  made  for  that  morning,  to  marry  a  couple. 
As  the  paints  were  being  put  up,  he  suddenly  recalls  his  engage- 
ment, abruptly  turns  on  his  heel,  rushes  from  the  store,  jumps 
into  his  wagon,  and  goes  clattering  down  the  street,  leaving  the 
astounded  storekeeper  in  anxious  solicitude  for  his  sanity.  Re- 
turning shortly,  with  a  merry, laugh  he  explained  the  cause  of  his 
precipitate  outgoing.  He  found  the  couple  waiting,  married  them, 
and  then  returned  for  his  paint.  Getting  his  supplies,  he  goes  to 
work.     He  said  : 

k>  I  wanted  to  economize  in  every  way  I  could,  and  meant  to 
paint  the  house  myself  ;  and  I  did.  I  got  along  well  enough  un- 
til I  came  to  the  gable  end,  which  was  two  and  a  half  stories 
high.  When  I  began  to  paint  there  I  was  so  afraid  that  I  should 
fall  off  from  the  platform  that  I  nearly  rubbed  out  with  my  vest 
what  I  put  on  with  the  brush,  but  in  the  course  of  a  week  I  got 
so  used  to  climbing  that  I  was  as  nimble  as  any  painter  in  town." 

Here  three  more  little  ones  came  to  swell  the  family  circle, 
adding  new  joys  to  the  heart  of  one  who  loved  almost  with  a 
mother's  devotion  every  little  child  he  saw.  But  these  joys 
brought  three  more  mouths  to  feed,  three  more  little  bodies  to 
clothe. 

Fortunately  food  was  abundant  and  very  cheap.  In  the  fall 
and  early  winter  game  abounded,  so  that  pigeon,  quail,  and  ducks 
were  bought  for  almost  nothing,  and  at  times  were  literally  given 
away. 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  203 

We  remember  the  story  oft  told  by  him  of  the  man  bringing 
six   dozen   pigeons   to  town.     He  tried  to  sell  them,  and  was 

laughed  at.  He  then  ottered  to  give  them  away;  no  one  wanted 
them.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  won't  take  them  home  ;  perhaps  if  I 
leave  them  in  my  wagon  in  the  street  some  one  will  steal  them." 
Returning  a  half-hour  later,  he  found  that  some  other  hunter 
equally  anxious  to  get  rid  of  his  game  had  dumped  eight  dozen 
more  into  his  wagon. 

His  people  would  sometimes  donate  food  or  clothing.  The 
best  suit  of  clothes  he  owned  was  made  over  from  a  discarded 
suit  donated  by  one  of  his  parishioners. 

Yet  these  were  among  the  happiest  years  of  his  life. 

For  he  found  joy  in  his  wrork.  He  loved  his  people  and  was 
beloved.  Above  all,  his  teaching  was  bearing  rich  harvest,  and 
many,  many  souls  found  rest  and  peace  through  his  words.  His 
success  was  very  gratifying,  and  urged  him  on  to  greater  effort. 

Among  the  young  his  influence  was  especially  marked.  A 
genial  playfellow  and  companion,  entering  with  hearty  zest  into 
all  their  sports,  helping  them  out  of  their  little  difficulties,  he 
gained  their  confidence  and  love.  He  guided  the  feet  of  many 
into  the  paths  of  a  higher  and  nobler  life. 

One  of  these  friends  writes  : 

"  He  had  a  class  of  young  girls,  and  I  do  not  think  that  any 
one  that  recited  to  him  could  ever  forget  his  original  way  of 
teaching.  There  were  eight  in  the  class,  and  we  enjoyed  the 
hour  spent  with  him.  He  developed  our  originality.  He  first 
attracted  us  toward  Milton.  We  studied,  for  he  inspired  in  us 
the  desire  to  know.  In  after-years,  in  his  visits  to  Indianapolis, 
the  surviving  scholars  were  looked  up  and  called  upon,  and  the 
children  of  those  who  were  gone  were  asked  after.  With  some 
of  these  scholars  he  was  thrown  more  intimately  than  with  others, 
for  all  were  not  in  his  church.  In  these  he  naturally  took  much 
interest  and  directed  them  in  their  reading.  I  remember  his 
telling  me  to  Met  Bulwer  alone  and  the  French  novels,'  which 
were  then  first  being  translated.  At  a  company,  a  church  social, 
or  the  singing-school  he  had  a  merry  word  to  say  to  one  and 
another.     All  felt  at  home  with  him. 

"  My  brother  tells  this  story  :  When  he  was  nine  years  old 
he  had  with  great  labor  made  a  kite,  at  least  what  he  thought 
would  serve  as  one.     In  those  days  there  were  no  toy-shops  here, 


204  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

and,  indeed,  it  was  with  difficulty  material  could  be  found  out  of 
which  to  manufacture  a  kite.  But,  as  I  said,  he  and  his  little 
sister  had  succeeded  in  shaping  a  thing  which  they  called  a  kite. 
So,  on  a  spring  day,  they  set  forth  to  fly  it.  My  brother  held  the 
string  and  the  little  sister  kept  the  kite  off  the  ground.  He  ran, 
and  she  after  him  ;  but  run  as  they  would,  coax  as  they  might, 
their  efforts  availed  nothing.  Finally,  disappointed,  footsore,  and 
covered  with  dust,  they  stopped  to  take  breath.  While  thus 
brooding  over  their  failure  they  saw  Mr.  Beecher  standing  near, 
looking  down  upon  them  with  an  amused  but  sympathetic  ex- 
pression on  his  face.  'What  do  you  call  that  ? '  'A  kite,' was 
the  melancholy  response.  'Well  !  well  !'  the  kind  heart  fully  tak- 
ing in  the  situation.  '  Come  to  ray  house  to-morrow  afternoon.' 
There  was  hope  in  the  tone,  and  the  boy's  heart  bounded.  The 
next  day  he  went  to  Mr.  Beecher's.  He  was  shown  a  kite  bigger 
than  himself.  He  could  scarcely  believe  his  senses.  Why,  the 
tail  even  was  long  enough  to  set  him  wild.  'Where's  your 
string?'  asked  Mr.  Beecher.  Out  of  his  well-worn  pocket,  where 
all  a  boy's  treasures  are  hidden,  he  drew  forth  a  cotton  string 
neither  long  nor  strong.  '  This  will  not  do  ;  have  you  any  money?' 
'No,  sir.'  'Come,  let's  go  and  get  a  string.'  To  the  nearest 
grocery-store,  where  in  early  times  everything  was  kept,  from 
pins  up  to  ploughs,  they  went.  A  ball  of  twine  was  bought  for  a 
'bit';  one  was  not  enough — two  for  a  quarter.  Out  into  the  street 
they  went,  and  the  kite  was  a  success.  Away  it  flew  over  their 
heads,  the  heart  of  the  happy  boy  flying  with  the  kite  far  into  the 
heavens,  and  won  to  his  pastor  for  all  time  by  this  simple,  kindly 
act." 

Like  all  mankind,  he  had  to  taste  the  bitter  with  the  sweet 
and  pass  under  the  shadow  of  the  dark  cloud  of  sorrow. 

First  his  brother  George,  who  had  been  a  kind  of  guardian 
brother  to  him,  and  deeply  loved,  was  killed.  The  news  came 
with  the  shock  of  a  lightning-bolt. 

"  I  was  called  to  go  to  Jacksonville  to  deliver  an  address,"  he 
said,  speaking  of  his  brother's  death.  "  The  journey  was  a  long 
one,  across  two  States  (or  one  and  a  half).  I  took  my  wife  and 
child  with  me,  and  we  were  gone  some  two  weeks.  When,  on  re- 
turning, we  had  got  within  two  miles  of  Indianapolis,  and  were  as 
elated  and  songful  and  merry  as  one  can  imagine  anybody  to  be, 
we  met  one  of  the  elders  of  my  church  riding  out  from  the  city, 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  205 

and  he  said,  after  stopping  to  greet  us;  'Have  you  heard  the 
news  ? '     '  No,'  said  I  ;  '  what  is  it  ?'    '  Your  brother  George  has 

killed  himself.'  1  did  not  say  a  word,  my  wife  did  not  say  a 
word,  and  he  did  not  say  one  word  more.  We  rode  on,  and  as 
we  rode  I  could  not  help  thinking,  'Killed  himself!  killed  him- 
self  !  killed  himself  !  '  It  was  nearly  an  hour  before  we  got  home, 
and  then  I  learned  that  my  brother's  death  was  caused  by  an  ac- 
cident  with  a  double-barrelled  gun  while  he  was  shooting  birds  in 
the  garden  ;  and  it  was  a  great  relief  to  me  to  know  that  '  killed 
himself'  did   not  mean  suicide." 

Later  came  the  death  of  his  little  boy  George,  the  first  loss  in 
his  own  immediate  family.  He  wrote,  a  few  years  later,  to  his 
sister,  Mrs.  Stowe  : 

"  I  was  in  a  missionary  field,  enduring  hardships,  and  thinking 
in  myself  always  how  to  stand  up  under  any  blow,  even  if  it  were 
a  thunder-stroke,  with  Paul's  heroism  at  once  firing  me  and 
putting  me  to  shame.  Our  noble  boy  suddenly  sickened.  Our 
people  did  not  know  how  to  sympathize.  Few  came  while  he 
lived  ;  fewer  yet  when,  on  a  bleak  March  day,  we  bore  him 
through  the  storm,  and,  standing  in  the  snow,  we  laid  his  beauti- 
ful form  in  his  cold,  white  grave.  Eunice  was  heart-broken.  My 
home  was  a  fountain  of  anguish.  It  was  not  for  me  to  quail  or 
show  shrinking.  So  I  choked  my  grief  and  turned  outwardly 
from  myself  to  seek  occupation." 

In  later  years  this  sorrow  had  hardly  lost  its  acuteness  : 

"  I  remember,  to-night,  as  well  as  I  did  at  the  time,  the  night 
that  my  eldest-born  son  died.  That  was  my  first  great  sorrow. 
I  remember  the  battle  of  hope  and  of  fear,  and  I  remember  the 
victory  of  submission.  The  child  revived  in  the  night.  I  went 
to  Indianapolis  (I  lived  on  the  edge  of  that  city),  and  I  shall 
never  forget  the  amazing  uplift  of  soul  that  I  had,  nor  that  one 
unspoken,  universal  thought  of  prayer,  which  seemed  to  me  to  fill 
the  whole  hemisphere,  for  the  life  of  my  child.  I  think  that  if 
one  ever  came  near  throwing  his  soul  out  of  his  body,  I  did.  And 
yet  before  the  morning  dawned  the  child  had  found  a  brighter 
world.  This  was  a  double  sorrow  because  I  had  given  him  up 
and  then  taken  him  back  again.     Then  came  the  sudden  wrench. 

"  It  wras  in  March,  and  there^had  just  come  up  a  great  storm, 
and  all  the  ground  was  covered  with  snow. 

"  We  went  dowrn  to  the  graveyard  with  little   Georgie,  and 


206  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

waded  through  it  in  the  snow.  I  got  out  of  the  carriage,  and  took 
the  little  coffin  in  my  arms,  and  walked  knee-deep  to  the  side  of 
the  grave,  and  looking  in  I  saw  the  winter  down  at  the  very  bot- 
tom of  it.  The  coffin  was  lowered  to  its  place,  and  I  saw  the 
snowflakes  follow  it  and  cover  it,  and  then  the  earth  hid  it  from 
the  winter. 

"  If  I  should  live  a  thousand  years  I  could  not  help  shivering 
every  time  I  thought  of  it.  It  seemed  to  me  then  as  though  I 
had  not  only  lost  my  child,  but  buried  him  in  eternal  snows.  It 
was  very  hard  for  faith  or  imagination  to  break  through  the 
physical  aspect  of  things  and  find  a  brighter  feeling." 

The  attachment  which  his  people  felt  for  him  was  more  than 
reciprocated.  He  always  loved  to  recall  these  early  years  and  in 
memory  live  over  again  their  joys  and  sorrows,  their  struggles 
and  triumphs. 

In  the  early  winter  of  1877,  in  the  course  of  a  Western  lecture 
trip,  revisiting  Indianapolis,  he  wrote  back  : 

"  I  went  to  Indianapolis  in  the  fall  of  1849  with  a  sick  babe 
in  my  arms,  who  showed  the  first  symptoms  of  recovery  after  eat- 
ing blackberries  which  I  gathered  by  the  way.  The  city  had  then 
a  population  of  four  thousand.  At  no  time  during  my  residence 
did  it  outreach  five  thousand.  Behold  it  to-day  with  one  hundred 
and  ten  thousand  inhabitants  !  The  Great  National  Road,  which 
at  that  time  was  of  great  importance,  since  sunk  into  forgetful- 
ness,  ran  through  the  city  and  constituted  the  main  street.  With 
the  exception  of  two  or  three  streets  there  were  no  ways  along 
which  could  not  be  seen  the  original  stumps  of  the  forest.  I 
bumped  against  them  in  a  buggy  too  often  not  to  be  assured  of 
the  fact. 

"  Here  I  preached  my  first  real  sermon  ;  here,  for  the  first 
time,  I  strove  against  death  in  behalf  of  a  child,  and  was  de- 
feated ;  here  I  built  a  house  and  painted  it  with  my  own  hands  ; 
here  I  had  my  first  garden  and  became  the  bishop  of  flowers  for 
this  diocese  ;  here  I  first  joined  the  editorial  fraternity  and  edit- 
ed the  Farmer  and  Gardener ;  here  I  had  my  first  full  taste  of 
chills  and  fever  ;  here  for  the  first  and  last  time  I  waded  to 
church  ankle-deep  in  mud  and  preached  with  pantaloons  tucked 
into  my  boot-tops.     All  is  changed  now. 

"  In  searching  for  my  obscure  little  ten-foot  cottage  I  got  lost. 
So  changed  was  everything  that  I   groped  over  familiar  territory 


REV.  HENRY  WARD   BEECHER.  20J 

like  a  blind  man  in  a  strange  city.  It  is  no  longer  my  Indianapo- 
lis, with  the  aboriginal  forest  fringing  the  town,  with  pasture- 
fields  lying  right  across  from  my  house  ;  without  coal,  without 
railroads,  without  a  stone  big  enough  to  throw  at  a  cat.  It  was 
a  joyful  (lav  ami  a  precious  gift  when  Calvin  Fletcher  allowed  me 
to  take  from  the  fragments  of  stone  used  to  make  foundations 
for  the  State  Hank  a  piece  large  enough  to  put  in  my  pork-barrel. 
I  left  Indianapolis  for  Brooklyn  on  the  very  day  upon  which  the 
cars  on  the  Madison  Railroad  for  the  first  time  entered  the  town  ; 
and  I  departed  on  the  first  train  that  ever  left  the  place.  On  a 
wood-car,  rigged  up  with  boards  across  from  side  to  side,  went  I 
forth. 

"  It  is  now  a  mighty  city,  full  of  foundries,  manufactories, 
wholesale  stores,  a  magnificent  court-house,  beautiful  dwellings, 
noble  churches,  wide  and  fine  streets,  and  railroads  more  than  I 
can  name  radiating  to  every  point  of  the  compass. 

"  The  old  academy  where  I  preached  for  a  few  months 
is  gone,  but  the  church  into  which  the  congregation  soon  entered 
still  is  standing  on  the  Governor's  Circle.  No  one  can  look  upon 
that  building  as  I  do.  A  father  goes  back  to  his  first  house, 
though  it  be  but  a  cabin,  where  his  children  were  born,  with 
feelings  which  can  never  be  transferred  to  any  other  place.  As 
I  looked  long  and  yearningly  upon  that  homely  building  the  old 
time  came  back  again.  I  stood  in  the  crowded  lecture-room  as 
on  the  night  when  the  current  of  religious  feeling  first  was  be- 
ginning to  flow  !  Talk  of  a  young  mother's  feelings  over  her 
first  babe — what  is  that  compared  with  the  solemnity,  the  en- 
thusiasm, the  impetuosity  of  gratitude,  of  humility,  of  singing 
gladness,  with  which  a  young  pastor  greets  the  incoming  of  his 
first  revival  ?  He  stands  upon  the  shore  to  see  the  tide  come  in  ! 
It  is  the  movement  of  the  infinite,  ethereal  tide  !  It  is  from  the 
other  world  !  There  is  no  color  like  heart  color.  The  homeli- 
est things  dipped  in  that  for  ever  after  glow  with  celestial  hues. 
The  hymns  that  we  sang  in  sorrow  or  in  joy  and  triumph  in 
that  humble  basement  have  never  lost  a  feather,  but  fly  back 
and  forth  between  the  soul  and  heaven,  plumed  as  never  was 
any  bird-of-paradise. 

"  I  stood  and  looked  at  the  homely  old  building,  and  saw  a 
procession  of  forms  going  in  and  out  that  the  outward  eye  will 
never  see  again — Judge  Morris,  Samuel  Merril,  Oliver  H.  Smith, 


208  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

D.  V.  Cully,  John  L.  Ketcham,  Coburn,  Fletcher,  Bates,  Bill- 
iard, Munsel,  Ackley,  O'Neil,  and  many,  many  more  !  There 
have  been  hours  when  there  was  not  a  hand-breadth  between  us 
and  the  saintly  host  in  the  invisible  church  !  In  the  heat  and 
pressure  of  later  years  the  memories  of  those  early  days  have 
been  laid  aside,  but  not  effaced.  They  rise  as  I  stand,  and  move 
in  a  gentle  procession  before  me.  No  outward  history  is  com- 
parable to  the  soul's  inward  life  ;  of  the  soul's  inward  life  no 
part  is  so  sublime  as  its  eminent  religious  developments.  And 
the  pastor,  who  walks  with  men,  delivering  them  from  thrall, 
aspersing  their  sorrow  with  tears,  kindling  his  own  heart  as  a 
torch  to  light  the  way  for  those  who  would  see  the  invisible, 
has,  of  all  men,  the  most  transcendent  heart-histories.  I  have 
seen  much  of  life  since  I  trod  that  threshold  for  the  last  time  ; 
but  nothing  has  dimmed  my  love,  nor  has  any  later  or  riper  ex- 
perience taken  away  the  bloom  and  sanctity  of  my  early  love. 
And  I  can  truly  say  of  hundreds  :  '  For  though  ye  have  ten  thou- 
sand instructors  in  Christ,  yet  have  ye  not  many  fathers  j  for  in 
Christ  Jesus  I  have  begotten  you  through  the  Gospel.' 

"  But  other  incidents  arise — the  days  of  sickness,  chills  and 
fever,  the  gardening  days,  my  first  editorial  experience,  my  luck 
in  horses  and  pigs,  my  house-building ;  and  not  a  few  scrapes — 
being  stalled  in  mud,  half-drowned  in  crossing  rivers,  long,  lone- 
ly forest  rides,  camp-meetings,  preachings  in  cabins,  sleepings  in 
the  open  air. 

"  I  was  reminded  of  one  comical  experience  as  I  was  seeking 
on  Market  Street  to  find  the  old  swale  or  shallow  ravine  which 
ran  between  my  cottage  and  Mr.  Bates's  dwelling.  It  had  for- 
merly been  a  kind  of  bayou  in  spring  when  the  stream  above 
town  overflowed,  but  dried  off  in  summer.  To  redeem  it  from 
unhealth  a  dike  had  been  built  to  restrain  the  river  and  turn  the 
superfluous  freshets  another  way.  But  one  year  the  levee  gave 
way  in  the  night  ;  and  when  the  morning  rose,  behold  a  flood 
between  me  and  my  neighbor  !  There  was  sport  on  hand  !  It 
was  too  deep  for  wading,  but  I  could  extemporize  a  boat.  I 
brought  down  to  the  edge  my  wife's  large  washing-tub,  and  in- 
tended with  a  bit  of  board  to  paddle  about.  No  sooner  was  I  in 
than  I  was  out.  The  tub  refused  to  stand  on  its  own  bottom. 
Well,  well,  said  I,  two  tubs  are  better  than  one.  So  I  got  its 
mate,  and,  nailing  two  strips  across  to  hold  them  fast  together,  I 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  209 

was  sure  that  they  were  too  long  now  to  upset.  So  they  were,  in 
the  long  line  ;  but  sideways  they  went  over,  carrying  me  with 
them  with  incredible  celerity.  Tubs  were  one  thing,  boats  an- 
other— that  I  saw  plainly. 

11  I  would  not  be  baffled.  I  proposed  a  raft.  Getting  rails 
from  the  fence,  I  soon  had  tacked  boards  across — enough  of 
them  to  carry  my  weight.  Then,  with  a  long  pole,  I  began  my 
voyage.     Alas  !    it  came  to  a  ludicrous  end. 

'*  A  rail  fence  ran  across  this  ravine  in  the  field,  just  above 
the  street.  One  end  of  the  fence  had  loosened,  and  the  water 
had  floated  it  round  enough  to  break  its  connection  with  its  hither 
side.  A  large  but  young  dog  belonging  to  a  friend  had  walked 
along  the  fence,  hoping  to  cross  dry-footed,  till  he  came  to  the 
abrupt  termination,  and,  his  courage  failing  him,  he  had  crouched 
down  and  lay  trembling  and  whining,  afraid  to  go  back  or  to  ven- 
ture the  water.  I  poled  my  raft  up  to  the  rescue  ;  and,  getting 
alongside,  coaxed  him  to  jump  aboard,  but  his  courage  was  all 
gone.  He  looked  up  wistfully,  but  stirred  not.  '  Well,  you  cow- 
ard, you  shall  come  aboard.'  Seizing  him  by  the  skin  of  the 
neck,  I  hauled  him  on  to  the  raft,  which  instantly  began  to  sink. 
It  was  buoyant  enough  for  a  man,  but  not  for  a  man  and  a  lub- 
berly dog.  There  was  nothing  for  it — as  the  stupid  thing  would 
not  stir,  I  had  to ;  and  with  a  spring  I  reached  the  fence  just  ab- 
dicated by  the  dog,  while  he,  the  raft  now  coming  to  the  surface 
again,  went  sailing  down  the  pond  and  was  safely  landed  below, 
while  I  was  left  in  the  crotch  of  the  fence.  One  such  experi- 
ment ought  to  serve  for  a  life-time,  but  alas  ! 

"  There  is  no  end  of  things  gone  by.  They  rise  at  every 
point  :  and  one  walks  encompassed  with  memories  which  accom- 
pany him  through  the  living  streets  like  invisible  spirits." 


CHAPTER    XI. 

Invitation  to  come  East — Call  to  Plymouth  Church — Friendly  Misgivings 
— Plainly  Outlining  his  Views — Early  Success — Plymouth  Burned — 
Preaching  in  the  Tabernacle. 

MR.  BEECHER  had  confidently  expected  to  have  remained 
permanently  in  the  West,  and    to   have   grown   up   with 
the   new  but  rising  country ;  but  it  was  destined  to  be 
otherwise. 

His  fame  had  spread  Eastward,  and  in  the  early  winter  of  1846 
a  tentative  effort  was  made  to  call  him  thither.  Mr.  W.  T.  Cut- 
ler, returning  from  a  visit  at  the  West,  wrote  in  December,  1846, 
to  Mr.  Beecher  that  Dr.  Storrs  had  been  called  to  the  Church  of 
the  Pilgrims ;  that  one  of  Dr.  Cheever's  principal  men,  J.  Hunt, 
had  "  observed  to  me  that  Dr.  Cheever  named  you  as  the  man 
for  the  Pilgrims,  and  he  thinks  that  there  will  be  new  churches, 
formed  on  the  Congregational  plan  here  and  in  Brooklyn,  and 
that  you  are  the  man  to  build  up  one  of  them."  While  in  Cin- 
cinnati Mr.  Cutler  called  on  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  relative  to  his 
son's  going  East,  but  "he  set  his  face  like  flint  against  it."  He 
then  had  a  long  and  urgent  talk  with  the  son  again,  in  answTer  to 
which  he  received  the  following  letter  : 

"  Indianapolis,  December  15,  1846. 

"  Dear  Sir  :  Your  letter  has  just  come  to  hand,  and  thanks 
for  it.  I  am  glad  you  saw  father,  for  your  sake,  for  his,  and  for 
mine.  Touching  the  question  of  our  former  conversations,  this 
is  my  position  :  My  pride  tells  me  that  if  the  only  question  in 
life  were  personal  advantage,  he  is  on  the  right  road  who  is  de- 
veloping truth  within  himself,  and  the  road  to  truth  lies  in  one's 
own  self,  and  not  in  the  place  where  he  lives.  But  my  conscience 
tells  me,  and,  I  thank  God,  my  whole  heart  goes  with  my  con- 
science, that  the  grand  question  in  human  life  is  the  work  of 
benevolence — the  doing  good  on  our  scale,  just  as  God  does  on 
His.  I  am  sure  that  the  shortest  road  to  one's  own  happiness  is 
by  making  others  happy.     Now,  in  this  work,  the  labor  of  icse- 


Mr.   Beecher  and  his  Father  at  the  time  of  Call   to   Brooklyn. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BE  EC  HER.  211 

USt,  if  there  be  one  thing  which,  above  all  others,  I  especially 
abhor,  it  is  this  cant  talk  about  ' taking  care  of  one's  influence*; 
going  where  one  can  '  use  his  influence  to  best  advantage  '  ;  refrain- 
ing from  this  or  that  for  fear  ' of  ignoring  influence]  and  all  such- 
like trash.  A  man's  influence  is  simply  the  shadow  which  useful- 
casts.  Let  him  look  out  that  he  is  doing  enough,  and  doing 
the  right  things,  and  then  he  may  spare  all  time  usually  employed 
in  looking  after  his  shadow  lest  it  should  give  him  the  slip. 

MAs  to  where  a  man  shall  live  and  labor  I  have  no  plan,  no 
theory  except  this  :  That  God  has  a  very  sufficient  ability  to 
make  Himself  understood  when  He  wants  a  man.  A  man  should 
work  just  where  he  is  until  he  is  clearly  called  somewhere  else. 
This  keeping  one's  ear  open  to  hear  if  God  is  not  calling,  this 
looking  out  every  little  while  to  see  if  one  is  not  wished  for 
somewhere  else,  is  rather  of  the  nature  of  self-seeking.  A  min- 
ister, like  a  maiden,  ought  not  to  make  the  first  overtures,  nor  to 
be  over-eager  to  have  them  made  to  him. 

"  Now,  I  set  forth  this  long  preamble  because  it  has  occurred 
to  me  that  my  situation  and  my  conversations  with  you  were  a 
little  queer,  and  that  it  was  worth  while  to  state  explicitly  where 
I  stand. 

"  Whenever  it  clearly  seems  to  me  that  God  has  work  for 
me  to  perform,  I  shall,  I  hope,  perform  it,  wherever  it  lies  and 
whatever  the  work  may  be.  Moreover,  when  God  has  work  for 
me  in  another  sphere,  I  do  not  doubt  that  He  will  make  it  so 
plainly  His  voice  that  calls  me  that  I  shall  be  in  no  more  doubt 
about  it  than  Abraham  was  when  called  to  leave  his  native  land 
or  when  called  to  offer  up  his  son.  I  have  no  plan  for  staying 
here,  or  for  going  to  the  West,  or  for  going  to  the  East.  I 
leave  it  entirely  with  Him  who  called  me  to  the  ministry  where  I 
shall  live,  where  and  when  I  shall  die  ;  and  in  all  fields,  actual  or 
contemplated,  I  do  desire  above  every  other  thing  to  have  a  heart 
prepared  to  receive  that  welcome  call,  joyous  to  every  one  who 
has  tasted  of  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come,  to  go  tip  and  labor 
in  a  higher  field,  with  ennobled  faculties  and  results,  every  one 
of  which  shall  be  both  perfect  and  illustrious. 

"  I  believe  that  Christ  will  surely  lead  you  wisely,  if  you  will 
be  led  ;  and  that  He  will  point  out  to  you  what  enterprises  it  will 
be  wise  for  you  to  undertake,  and  to  what  one  of  all  His  multitu- 
dinous servants  you  should  apply  for  help.     And  should  I  never 


2  I  2  BIOGRA PH  Y  OF 

labor  in  such  service  with  you  or  near  you,  in  New  York,  what 
then  ?  I  feel,  in  that  respect,  as  if  we  were  like  the  two  portions 
of  our  army  before  Monterey.  What  matters  it  on  which  side  of 
the  city  we  are,  since  on  either  side  we  are  bravely  pushing  our 
arms  toward  a  common  centre,  and  when  we  meet  it  will  as- 
suredly be  in  the  hour  of  victory  ? 

"  But  if  ever  I  come  to  you  or  go  to  any  other  place,  al- 
though I  have  no  plan  as  to  situations,  I  have,  I  hope,  an  im- 
movable plan  in  respect  to  the  objects  which  I  shall  pursue.  So 
help  me  God,  I  do  not  mean  to  be  a  party  man,  nor  to  head  or 
follow  any  partisan  effort.  I  desire  to  aid  in  a  development  of 
truth  and  in  the  production  of  goodness  by  it.  I  do  not  care  in 
whose  hands  truth  may  be  found,  or  in  what  communion  ;  I  will 
thankfully  take  it  of  any.  Nor  do  I  feel  bound  in  any  sort  to  look 
upon  untruth  or  mistake  with  favor  because  it  lies  within  the 
sphere  of  any  church  to  which  I  may  be  attached. 

"  I  do  not  have  that  mawkish  charity  which  seems  to  arise 
from  regarding  all  tenets  as  pretty  much  alike — the  charity,  in 
fact,  of  indifference — but  another  sort  :  a  hunger  for  what  is  true, 
an  exultation  in  the  sight  of  it,  and  such  an  estimate  and  glory 
in  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Christ  that  no  distinction  of  sect  or  form 
shall  be  for  one  moment  worthy  to  be  compared  with  it.  I  will 
overleap  anything  that  stands  between  me  and  truth.  Whoever 
loves  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity  and  in  truth  is  my  brother. 
He  that  doeth  God's  will  was,  in  Christ's  judgment,  His  mother, 
His  sister,  His  brother,  His  friend,  His  disciple. 

"  Your  visit  has  certainly  been  of  collateral  advantage  to  me. 
Some  who  did  not  seem  to  care  whether  I  had  anything  to  live 
on  or  not  have  been  stirred  up,  at  least  to  attempt  to  discharge 
the  pledges  to  me  for  a  support :  $800  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be 
an  extravagant  salary,  but  I  would  gladly  take  $600  in  lieu  of  it, 
if  I  could  have  it  paid  regularly. 

"  Give  my  love  to  Mr.  Day  and  family,  if  you  know  them  ; 
if  not,  just  take  this  letter  in  your  hand,  go  to  his  store,  show 
him  this  paragraph  :  '  Mr.  Day,  allow  me  to  present  to  you  my 
friend,  Mr.  Cutler.  Mr.  Cutler,  I  am  happy  in  introducing  you 
to  an  old  and  valued  friend,  Mr.  Day.' 

"  And  now,  as  you  are  at  the  fountain  of  news,  why  will  you 
not  drop  me  a  line  from  time  to  time,  and  keep  me  apprised  of 
things  in  the  great  world  ?     You  hold  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer 


RE  I '.  HENR  V  ir.l  A' J)  BEE i  HER.  2  I  3 

as  well  as  the  tongue  of  a  ready  speaker.     And  though  I  may 

have  little  news  to  send  in  return,  such  as  I  have  will  I  give  unto 
thee.  Truly  yours, 

44  H.  W.    Hi  E(  HER." 

Again  in  February  Mr.  Cutler  wrote,  this  time  asking  point- 
edly it"  Mr.  Beecher  would  accept  a  call  to  Brooklyn,  stating  that 
the  property  formerly  owned  by  the  First  Presbyterian  Church — 
Rev.  Dr.  Cox — had  been  purchased  by  Henry  C.  Bowen,  Seth  B. 
Hunt,  and  David  Hale  ;  that  it  would  be  vacant  in  May,  and 
that  they  proposed  to  organize  in  it  a  new  church  on  the  Con- 
gregational plan  ;  that  if  he  would  come  they  would  give  him 
a  salary  of  $1,500  per  annum,  and,  if  necessary,  make  it  $2,000. 
Mr.  Cutler  held  out  many  alluring  inducements,  but  without  ap- 
parent effect.  Mr.  Beecher  would  not  even  entertain  the  propo- 
sition. In  the  meantime  Mr.  Cutler  shrewdly  reasoned  that  if  he 
would  come  East,  even  for  a  short  time,  it  might  be  possible  to 
make  him  change  his  mind.  It  was  so  arranged  that  Mr.  Beecher 
received  an  invitation  from  the  American  Home  Missionary 
Society  to  deliver  an  address,  under  its  auspices,  at  what  was 
then  called  the  44  May  Anniversaries  "  held  in  New  York.  He 
accepted  this  invitation,  intending,  as  he  said  since,  44  to  urge 
young  men  to  go  West,  to  show  wrhat  a  good  field  the  West  was, 
and  to  cast  some  fiery  arrows  at  men  that  had  worked  there  and 
got  tired,  and  slunk  away,  and  come  back.  I  remember  that  I 
was  particularly  glowing  on  this  subject ;  but  I  came  East  not 
knowing  what  I  did.  It  was  a  trap.  Brother  Cutler  (who  has 
gone  to  heaven),  it  seems,  had  a  little  plan  at  that  very  time,  and 
I  was  running  into  a  noose,  though  I  did  not  suspect  it.  The 
result  of  that  visit  was  the  formation  of  this  church  [Ply- 
mouth]. Mr.  David  Hale,  of  the  Journal  of  Commerce — whose 
son  Richard  is  still  one  of  our  members,  though  he  is  not  with 
us — with  two  or  three  others,  desired  at  once  to  extend  me  an 
invitation  to  become  the  pastor  of  this  church.  But  the  church 
did  not  exist.  It  was  like  asking  a  young  man  to  become  the 
husband  of  an  unborn  girl  There  was  no  church  to  be  my 
bride.  I  refused  to  receive  a  call  to  an  empty  house.  They 
therefore  made  haste  to  form  a  church  ;  and  I  think  it  was 
early  in  June  of  the  same  year  that  some  tw7enty-five  persons 
covenanted  together  over   this  very  ground  for  the  church  as  it 


2  1 4  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

then  stood.  The  main  building  fronted  on  one  street,  and  the 
lecture-room  on  the  other.  Here  they  agreed  to  become  a 
church  of  Christ ;  and  then  they  extended  to  me  a  call  to  be  its 
pastor.  The  call  was  not  publicly  known  until  the  October  fol- 
lowing ;  but  still  the  mischief  was  done." 

On  Sunday  evening,  June  13,  1847,  Plymouth  Church  was 
formally  organized  with  a  membership  of  twenty-one,  Rev.  R.  S. 
Storrs,  of  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  preaching  the  sermon. 

On  the  Monday  evening  following  business  meetings  were 
held  by  both  the  church  and  society,  in  each  of  which  it  was  un- 
animously voted  to  invite  Mr.  Beecher  to  be  their  pastor,  with  a 
salary  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars  the  first  year,  seventeen  hun- 
dred and  fifty  the  second  year,  and  two  thousand  the  third  year 
and  thereafter. 

A  formal  call  was  at  once  sent. 

For  the  first  time  the  question  was  taken  into  serious  conside- 
ration, and  for  the  next  two  months  every  argument  was  pre- 
sented that  might  lead  to  an  acceptance  of  the  call,  great  stress 
being  laid  on  the  fact  that  in  the  larger  field  could  be  ac- 
complished a  more  important  work  and  an  influence  might  be 
exerted  that  would  be  felt  throughout  the  entire  country  ;  that 
the  West  could  easily  be  reached  from  New  York,  when  it  might 
be  difficult  to  reach  New  York  from  the  West. 

Long  and  most  urgent  letters  were  sent  to  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher, 
begging  him  to  withhold  any  adverse  influence.  It  is  very  doubt- 
ful if  any  of  the  inducements  or  the  flattering  representations  so 
strongly  presented  had  succeeded  in  winning  him  from  the  field 
where  he  was  then  working,  were  it  not  that  another  influence  was 
silently  and  powerfully  at  work.  The  health  of  his  wife,  who  lit- 
erally was  giving  her  very  life  to  aid  and  sustain  him  in  his  work, 
was  rapidly  failing  under  the  malarial  influences  of  the  West.  It 
became  very  evident  that  she  must  have  rest  and  a  change  of 
climate.  A  few  years  in  the  East  might  restore  her  health,  then  he 
could  return  and  resume  his  work.  In  August  he  came  to  a  de- 
cision, and  on  the  12th  wrote  his  letter  of  resignation,  in  which 
he  set  out  his  reasons  and  plans  : 

"Indianapolis,  August  12,  1847. 
"  To  the  Elders  of  the  Second  Presbyterian  Church,  Indianapolis: 
"Dear  Brethren:    I  have  the  very  painful   necessity  laid 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH  EK.  215 

upon  me  of  relinquishing  the  pastoral  charge  of  the  chur<  h  <>ver 

which  tor  eight  years  I  have  presided.  I  need  not  a^ure  you 
that  I  do  it  with  extreme  grief.  It"  I  could  have  had  the  control 
of  my  own  affairs  I  should  certainly  have  supposed  it  wisest  and 
best  that,  for  the  present  at  least,  I  should  remain  in  the  West 
and  with  you.  It  is  only  the  firm  belief  that  in  removing  tem- 
porarily to  the  sea-coast  I  should  save  the  life  and  restore  the 
health  of  my  wife  that  has  induced  me  to  sever  the  connection 
which  has  so  long  and  so  pleasantly  existed  between  us.  I  am 
peremptorily  warned,  not  only  by  those  in  whose  medical  skill  I 
place  implicit  reliance,  but  by  a  continual  confirmation  of  their 
judgment  in  actual  experience,  to  leave  this  climate  if  I  would 
save  her  life.  You  will  perceive  in  this  state  of  facts  that  against 
which  neither  I  nor  any  one  can  form  any  argument  or  persua- 
sion. I  cannot  express  the  feelings  which  have  warred  in  my 
breast  in  the  anticipation  of  this  necessity,  nor  can  I  without  the 
deepest  regret  recall  the  deficiencies  of  my  ministry  among  you. 
But  I  shall  never  forget  the  kindness  with  which  my  failings  have 
been  borne,  the  sympathy  which  I  have  experienced  from  you  in 
the  vicissitudes  of  the  past  eight  years,  and  that  co-operation  with- 
out which  I  am  sure  I  could  but  in  a  small  part  have  accom- 
plished the  work  which  has  been  done.  There  are  some  details  of 
arrangements  which  I  desire  to  make,  but  which  can  be  better 
treated  in  conversation. 

"  I  am,  with  Christian  and  personal  affection,  very  truly 
yours,  H.  W.  Beecher." 

Having  decided,  he  wrote  at  once  to  the  committee  of  Ply- 
mouth Church  from  whom  he  had  received  the  call  : 

"Indianapolis,  August  19,  1847. 

"  Dear  Brothers  :  I  desire  to  convey  through  you  to  the 
Plymouth  Church  and  congregation  my  acceptance  of  the  call  to 
the  pastoral  office  tendered  by  them  to  me. 

"  I  cannot  regard  the  responsibilities  of  this  important  field 
without  the  most  serious  diffidence,  and  I  wholly  put  my  trust  in 
that  Saviour  whom  I  am  to  preach  in  your  midst.  I  can  heartily 
adopt  the  language  of  Paul:  '  Brethren,  pray  for  us,  that  the 
word  of  the  Lord  may  have  free  course  and  be  glorified.''  It  will 
be  necessary  for  me  to  remain  yet  for  some  time  in  this  place, 


2  1 6  BIOGRAPH  Y  OF 

but  I  hope  to  arrive  in  Brooklyn  in  the  middle  of  October,  or  at 
farthest  by  the  first  of  November. 

"  I  am,  in  Christian  love,  most  truly  yours, 

4i  H.  W.  Beecher. 
"  Tos.  T.  Howard, 
"  H.  C.  Bowex. 
"  Chas.  Rowland, 

and  others." 

While  in  the  East,  after  having  received  the  call  from  Ply- 
mouth Church  and  while  the  question  of  acceptance  was  still  in 
doubt,  Mr.  Beecher  also  received  a  call  from  the  Park  Street 
Church  of  Boston — the  same  church  where  he  had  preached  nine 
years  before,  when  on  his  way  back  to  Lawrenceburg  with  his 
young  wife. 

On  June  10,  1847,  he  received  a  letter  from  the  Rev.  Silas 
Aikens,  the  pastor  of  Park  Street  Church,  stating  that  they  very 
much  desired  Mr.  Beecher  to  accept  a  call  to  the  position  of  as- 
sociate pastor. 

Early  in  July  a  formal  call  was  sent  by  the  church  and  so- 
ciety to  the  same  effect,  but  was  shortly  afterwards  declined. 

The  call  to  Brooklyn  having  been  definitely  accepted,  Mr. 
Beecher  began  at  once  to  arrange  for  the  removal  of  his  family. 
His  salary  was  in  arrears.  To  meet  the  necessities  of  his  family 
he  had  been  obliged  to  borrow  five  hundred  dollars.  This,  with 
other  and  smaller  debts,  must  be  paid,  and  money  must  be  raised 
wherewith  to  transport  his  family  East.  But  how  ?  Fortunately 
this  difficulty  had  been  foreseen,  and  as  soon  as  it  seemed  prob- 
able that  the  call  would  be  accepted  the  friends  at  Plymouth 
Church,  in  prophecy  of  that  generosity  which  characterized  them 
in  all  after-years,  promptly  raised  by  subscription  one  thousand 
dollars,  and  notified  Mr.  Beecher  to  draw  thereupon  as  he  might 
need. 

About  the  first  of  October,  1847,  he  started  Eastward,  leaving 
Indianapolis  on  the  first  passenger-train  run  on  the  new  road 
just  built.  Modern  luxuries  had  not  then  been  introduced,  if  we 
may  rely  upon  his  account  of  the  ride  : 

"  The  car  was  no  car  at  all,  a  mere  extempore  wood-box,  used 
sometimes  without  seats  for  hogs,  but  with  seats  for  men,  of 
which  class  I  (ah  me  miserable  !)  happened  to  be  one.  And  so 
at  eleven   at   night  I   arrived  in   Madison,  not  overproud  in  the 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  21  J 

glory  Of  riding  OX)  the  first  train  that  ever  went  from  Indianapolis 

to  Madison." 

October,  1847,  marked  a  now  era  in  Mr.  Beecher's  experience. 
By  successive  steps  he  had  advanced  from  field  to  field  with 
steadily  increasing  responsibility,  from  the  collegian  tramping 
twenty  miles  to  deliver  an  occasional  address  in  some  adjoining 
town  on  topics  affecting  public  morals,  to  the  young  theologian 
still  in  the  seminary,  trying  his  powers  in  some  little  hamlet — a 
knight-errant  breaking  a  lance  with  the  adversary  ;  to  the  young, 
unknown  missionary  entering  the  lists  for  his  first  real,  earnest 
battle  against  "the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil";  to  the  ac- 
knowledged preacher  called  to  the  State  capital,  dealing  stalwart 
blows  at  those  evils  which  sap  the  public  conscience  and  allure 
the  youth  into  evil  ways,  a  recognized  leader  not  only  within  the 
limits  of  his  Presbytery  but  even  throughout  his  State. 

And  at  last,  called  to  the  metropolitan  centre,  he  enters  a  field 
whose  limits  of  influence  were  to  be  bounded  only  by  the  limits 
of  the  civilized  globe.  With  each  increase  of  influence  came  cor- 
responding responsibilities.  So  far  he  had  developed  resources 
sufficient  for  each  increase  in  his  burdens  ;  but  would  he  be  suffi- 
cient for  this  new  experience?  He  had  fully  sustained  himself  as 
a  missionary  and  a  preacher  in  a  pioneer  State,  in  a  comparatively 
rude  and  uncultured  society.  He  had  earned  a  reputation  that 
had  preceded  him  East  ;  could  he  maintain  it  ?  Could  he  meet 
the  requirements  of  the  refined,  critical,  and  highly-cultured  me- 
tropolis (for  New  York  and  Brooklyn  were,  to  all  intents,  one 
great  centre)  ?  Many  feared,  and  kindly  volunteered  the  infor- 
mation that  neither  the  new  church  nor  its  new  pastor  would 
last  many  months. 

He  was  altogether  too  outspoken  for  his  own  good,  said  they. 
It  was  all  very  well  for  a  minister  to  combat  evil,  but  he  must  do 
it  in  the  good  old-fashioned,  orthodox  way  :  he  should  confine 
himself  to  generalities  and  not  be  too  specific.  There  were 
some  things  he  ought  not  to  meddle  with  :  the  pulpit  was  no 
place  for  politics,  and  slavery  was  purely  a  political  question. 
He  would  find  that  in  New  York  the  public  would  not  tolerate 
those  things  which  had  been  permitted  to  him  in  Indiana. 

If  he  persisted  he  would  soon  have  empty  pews  to  preach  to, 
even  if  he  did  not  have  a  personal  demonstration  of  the  folly  of 
attacking   those    popular    sins — sins    which    most  of  his  clerical 


2l8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

brothers  had  had  the  good  sense  to  leave  alone.  Endless  were 
the  similes  and  metaphors  indulged  in,  of  which  the  well-worn 
rocket  was  perhaps  the  most  suggestive. 

Some  amiable  critics  even  went  so  far  as  to  intimate  that  his 
success  in  the  West  was  due  more  to  the  surreptitious  use  of  the 
father's  old  sermons  than  any  inherent  ability  in  the  son,  and  he 
was  generously  given  just  one  year  to  run  through  the  barrelful 
of  such  sermons  supposed  to  have  been  brought  on  with  him. 
The  barrel,  like  the  widow's  oil-cruse,  seems  to  have  had  a  mi- 
raculous power  of  refilling. 

Many  friends  advised  him  against  the  change  :  the  risk  was 
too  great,  his  experience  too  little.      He  said  of  this  time  : 

"  In  coming  to  Brooklyn  I  had  but  one  single  thought — that 
of  zeal  for  Christ.  I  came  under  all  manner  of  warnings  and 
cautions.  Many  good  brethren  told  me  how  men  got  puffed 
up  in  the  city,  what  temptations  I  would  encounter,  and  how  I 
would  very  likely  be  conservative,  and  forget  my  zeal,  and  so 
on  ;  and  I  was  obliged  at  last  to  say  even  to  my  father : 
1  Father,  do  you  understand,  then,  that  God's  grace  only  ex- 
tends to  the  country,  and  that  He  cannot  protect  anybody  in 
the  city  ?'" 

On  the  other  hand,  some  counselled  self-interest  :  "  It  is  not 
necessary  that  you  should  settle  in  Brooklyn ;  with  your  talent 
you  will  make  more  show  in  New  York."  "  I  didn't  come  to  make 
a  show,"  he  replied.  "  I  came  to  preach  what  I  understand  to  be 
the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  to  men,  and  this  is  the  first  open- 
ing, and  I  take  it." 

He  did  not  propose  to  have  any  misunderstanding  on  the 
part  of  his  new  church  as  to  the  course  he  should  pursue.  He 
intended  to  make  that  very  plain  and  at  the  outset.  If  they 
wanted  him  they  would  have  to  take  him  with  their  eyes  open 
— wide  open. 

October  10,  the  first  Sunday  after  his  arrival,  he  preached  in 
the  new  church,  both  morning  and  evening. 

"  My  first  sermon,  I  think,  was  directed  to  the  Source  of  all 
true  religion — the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  His  power.  In  my 
second  sermon — on  the  evening  of  the  first  Sunday — I  recollect 
that  I  lifted  up  the  banner  and  blew  the  trumpet  in  the  applica- 
tion of  Christianity  to  intemperance,  to  slavery,  and  to  all  other 
great  national  sins.     I   said  to  those  who  were  present  :  '  If  you 


R  /■:  l '.  HENR  Y  WARD  B  E  /  ( 7/  /■/  R.  2  I  9 

come  into  this  church  and  congregation  I  want  you  to  under- 
stand distinctly  that  I  will  wear  no  fetters  ;  that  I  will  be  bound 
by  no   precedent  ;  that   I  will  preach  the  Gospel  as  I  apprehend 

it,  whether  men  will  hear  or  whether  they  will  forbear,  and  that 
I  will  apply  it  without  stint,  and  sharply  and  strongly,  to  the 
overthrow  o\  ever}'  evil  and  to  the  upbuilding  of  all  that  is 
good.1  " 

Well-meaning  but  timid  friends  took  alarm  at  this  bold  dec- 
laration. It  was  not  customary;  it  was  not  what  they  were  used 
to;  they  came  to  him  to  "  counsel  him  for  his  own  good,"  they  said. 
"  Save  yourself,  anyway  ;  don't  ally  yourself  to  unpopular  men 
nor  unpopular  causes.  There  is  no  need  of  it.  You  can  have 
your  own  notions  about  abolition  ;  what  is  the  use  of  preaching 
anti-slavery  sermons  ? "  To  their  great  distress  their  counsels 
had  just  the  opposite  effect  intended  :  "  I  despised  them  all,  and 
preached  like  thunder  on  those  subjects,  especially  before  pew- 
renting.  For  a  period  of  more  than  ten  years  I  never  let  a 
month  elapse  before  pew-renting  that  I  did  not  come  out  with 
the  whole  strength  of  my  nature  on  the  abominations  of  Ameri- 
can slavery.  I  remember  saying,  with  some  discourtesy  and 
with  language  that  I  should  not  use  now  :  'If  you  don't  want  to 
hear  such  doctrines,  don't  take  a  pew  here  next  time.'  It  had 
something  of  youthful  eagerness  in  it,  but  I  am  proud  that  it 
pleased  God  to  ally  me  to  causes  that  were  weak  but  right.  It 
has  ever  been  a  cause  of  great  gratification  to  me  that  I  have  not 
lost  that  spirit,  and  that  I  ally  myself  to  that  which  I  think  to  be 
right ;  and  I  do  not  care  what  man  says  to  me,  provided  only  I 
can  believe  that  God  likes  it,  and  that  I  have  the  testimony  of 
His  approval  in  myself." 

To  have  remained  silent  in  the  presence  of  such  great  evils 
was  to  have  shared  the  responsibility  of  their  existence. 

We  quote  here  his  views  on  this  subject,  uttered  from  his 
pulpit  many  years  later: 

"  In  every  reform  from  intemperance,  from  vice,  from  crime, 
each  individual  citizen  is  responsible  to  the  degree  of  influence 
which  he  has,  and  if  he  does  not  exert  it  he  is  responsible  for  a 
neglect  of  duty — a  binding  duty.  He  is  bound  to  create  a  public 
sentiment  that  shall  work  for  virtue.  He  is  bound  to  drain  the 
community  of  all  those  evils  that  run  together  and  form  a  chan- 
nel for  vice  and  crime.     It  is  not  a  matter  of  election,  it  is  a 


2  20  BIOGRAPH Y  OF 

matter  of  obligation  ;  and  because  there  are  the  most  respectable 
classes  in  the  community  that  don't  do  it,  you  are  not  set  free. 
Because  the  men  of  riches  and  the  men  of  power  and  the  men  of 
standing  in  society  don't  do  it,  the  poorest  laboring  man  in  the 
community,  if  he  does  not,  under  the  direction  of  his  reason  and 
conscience,  labor  for  the  purification  of  the  commonwealth,  is 
responsible  to  God.  He  is  bound  to  do  it.  If  his  individuality 
on  the  one  side  has  shielded  him  against  aggression,  it  brings 
with  it  also  certain  obligations,  and  he  is  bound  to  meet  them. 
All  parties  hold  their  members  only  subject  to  the  corrected 
judgment  and  moral  sense  of  the  individual.  If  they  go  with 
their  party  on  the  general  ground  that  it  is  going  right  and  is 
doing  right,  as  far  as  the  limitations  of  human  ignorance  and 
human  power  are  concerned,  travelling  in  the  right  direction  also 
with  many  imperfect  steps  and  many  imperfect  elements,  he  may 
justly  go  on  with  it  ;  but  if  he  is  committed,  as  were  the  parties 
of  slavery,  to  so  atrocious  a  wrong  as  that  which  violated  the 
fundamental  rights  of  the  whole  human  family,  a  man  is  bound 
to  fight  the  party,  in  and  out  of  it  :  in  it  by  correction,  out  of  it 
by  protest  and  opposition.  And  merely  because  he  can  say, 
'  The  party  did  it,  I  did  not,'  he  is  not  relieved  of  responsibility. 
Inasmuch  as  you  knew  what  was  right  and  did  not  do  it.  so 
much  you  are  involved  in  the  guilt  ;  and  there  was  a  great  deal 
of  guilt.  The  Church  itself  was  involved  in  the  same — dumb 
pulpits,  uncirculated  Bibles,  a  corrupt  and  vicious  public  sen- 
timent. 

"  When  I  came  into  Plymouth  Church  as  its  pastor  there  was 
probablv  hardly  a  single  church  in  the  bounds  of  New  York  or 
Brooklyn  of  any  note  that  dared  to  say  a  word  for  the  liberty 
of  the  abject  slave.  Was  I  wrong  in  protesting  against  it,  with 
the  knowledge  that  I  had  ?  Witli  the  conscience  that  I  had,  had 
I  been  silent  I  should  have  been  doomed  justly  to  the  stroke 
of  God's  righteous  judgment;  and  the  want  of  moral  courage 
under  such  circumstances  is  a  very  great  sin  everywhere.  You 
are  not  right  to  stand  still  in  any  great  party,  moving  in  any 
direction,  doing  wrong,  without  deliberately  taking  account  with 
yourself.  Am  I  striving  to  correct  the  evil  by  all  the  influence  I 
can  wield  ?  On  finding  that  to  be  impossible,  do  I  free  myself 
from  all  imputation  of  partnership  in  any  such  guilt,  one  way  or 
the  other  ? " 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  22  1 

•  it  is  easy  enough  to  express  such  sentiments :  it  is 
popular;  it  is  in  the  line  of  public  sentiment.  Then  it  was  a  very 
different  matter,  and  the  living  up  to  them  still  more  difficult 

Recalling  the  early  history  of  Plymouth  Church,  he  said  : 

"  It  was  formed  in  the  midst  of  the  development  of  the 
greatest  work  of  the  modern  century — the  emancipation  of  the 
slaves  in  America,  by  which  the  industry  of  the  Continent  was 
also  emancipated,  and  by  which  the  Church  and  religion  itself 
were  saved  from  a  worse  than  Babylonian  captivity. 

"  When  I  came  here  you  could  get  no  great  Missionary  So- 
ciety, llible  Society,  or  Tract  Society  to  say  one  solitary  word  for 
the  slave.  Such  were  the  interests  of  the  mercantile  classes  of 
the  South  that  it  was  extremely  difficult  to  exert  there  any  anti- 
slavery  influence.  As  the  merchants  largely  held  the  funds,  as 
the  great  societies  needed  support,  and  as  churches  were  built  by 
respectable  men  whose  prosperity  depended  mainly  upon  the 
peace  and  order  of  the  South,  the  position  that  this  church  took 
was  a  bold  and  unpopular  one.  Those  who  did  not  live  then 
can  have  no  conception  of  what  it  was  to  form  a  church  that 
should  stand  right  out  in  the  intense  light  of  the  time,  and  de- 
clare for  universal  liberty  and  for  the  right  of  the  slave  to  the 
Bible,  and  to  full  religious  freedom.  This  church  grew  up  right 
against  a  flinty  way  of  bitterness  and  opposition." 

Such  was  the  beginning,  and  such  the  times  ! 

Although  he  began  preaching  in  Plymouth  Church,  October 
10,  1847,  Mr.  Beecher  was  not  formally  installed  until  the  nth 
of  November  following.  On  that  day  an  ecclesiastical  council 
was  convened  "  by  letters  from  the  Plymouth  Church  in  Brooklyn, 
in  the  State  of  New  York,  at  their  lecture-room,  .  .  .  for  the  pur- 
pose of  installing  (if  the  way  should  be  found  clear)  the  Rev. 
Henry  Ward  Beecher  as  their  pastor,"  etc. 

"  After  an  extended  and  thorough  examination  of  the  pastor- 
elect  respecting  his  views  of  the  doctrine  of  natural  and  revealed 
religion,  his  experience  of  renewing  and  sanctifying  grace,  and 
his  object  in  entering  on  the  work  of  the  Christian  ministry,  the 
council  unanimously  pronounced  the  examination  sustained  and 
voted  to  proceed  to  installation." 

The  invocation  and  reading  of  the  Scriptures  was  by  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Humphrey,  of  Pittsfield,  Mass.  ;  the  sermon  by  Rev.  Dr.  Ed- 
ward Beecher,  of  the  Salem  Church  of  Boston,  an  older  brother 


2  2  2  BIOGRAPH  Y  OF 

of  the  new  pastor  ;  the  installing  prayer  by  Rev.  Dr.  Hewitt,  of 
the  Second  Congregational  Church  of  Bridgeport  ;  the  charge  to 
the  pastor  by  Rev.  Dr.  Lansing,  of  the  Second  Congregational 
Church  of  New  York  ;  the  fellowship  of  the  churches  by  Rev. 
R.  S.  Storrs,  Jr.,  of  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  Brooklyn  ;  ad- 
dress to  the  people  by  Rev.  J.  P.  Thompson,  of  the  Broadway 
Tabernacle,  New  York,  and  the  concluding  prayer  by  Rev.  Dr. 
Bushnell,  of  the  North  Church  of  Hartford. 

As  soon  as  he  was  fairly  installed  the  pastor  set  himself 
vigorously  to  work  to  build  up  the  young  church,  and  to  fill  it 
with  new  converts. 

The  aucfience-room  of  the  church  began  to  fill  rapidly,  in  the 
morning  being  generally  three-fourths  full,  and  in  the  evening 
entirely  full.  Early  in  1S48  difficulty  was  found  in  accommo- 
dating those  who  wished  to  attend,  the  building  being  crowded 
from  that  time  on,  both  night  and  morning. 

In  the  spring,  daily  morning  prayer-meetings  were  held,  under 
the  conduct  of  the  pastor.  Soon  revivals  broke  out  in  the 
church,  which,  though  singularly  free  from  undue  excitement, 
produced  a  deep  and  wide-spread  influence.  More  than  seventy 
persons  were  converted,  most  of  them  joining  Plymouth  Church, 
the  rest  uniting  with  other  evangelical  churches. 

Notwithstanding  the  many  doleful  prophecies  that  greeted  its 
early  beginnings,  and  the  "  dangerous  stand  "  taken  by  its  pastor 
which  alarmed  so  many  conservative  minds,  the  church  was  just 
perverse  enough  to  prosper  and  grow  rapidly — a  perversity  which 
characterized  it  for  the  next  forty  years.  In  a  little  over  two 
years  from  its  birth  it  had  an  enrolled  membership  of  four  hun- 
dred and  four,  of  whom  fifty-six  joined  in  1847  ;  one  hundred 
and  fifty-two  in  1848  ;  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  in  1849  (the 
year  of  the  fire),  and  sixty  in  the  first  part  of  1850. 

On  the  13th  of  January,  1849,  occurred  one  of  those  fortunate 
mishaps  which  proved  to  be  a  blessing  in  disguise.  For  some 
time  previous,  the  congregation  had  been  greatly  disproportion- 
ed  to  the  capacity  of  the  church  ;  the  necessity  of  rebuilding 
began  to  be  seriously  discussed,  when  occurred  a  fire  that  ab- 
ruptly terminated  the  discussion.  The  building  was  so  badly 
damaged  that  it  was  unanimously  determined  to  rebuild  rather 
than  repair. 

The  kindly  sympathy  of  neighboring  churches,  in  volunteer- 


rew  iiK\K\  Ward  beecheR. 

ing  the  use  of  their  buildings  for  the  houseless  congregation,  was 
gratefully  accepted  for  a  short  time. 

It  soon  became  apparent  that  this  unsettled  and  migratory 
condition  was  harmful  to  the  church.  It  was  therefore  <1 
mined  to  erect  a  temporary  structure  upon  ground  in  Pierrepont 
Street,  kindly  offered  by  Mr.  Lewis  Tapparf.  in  thirty  days  a 
building,  one  hundred  by  eighty  feet,  was  put  up,  and  in  this  the 
church  made  its  home  until  the  fust  Sunday  in  January,  1850. 

The  whole  expense  of  this  "  Tabernacle,"  as  it  was  called, 
was  twenty-eight  hundred  dollars.  The  subsequent  sale  of 
the  budding,  together  with  the  weekly  collections,  more  than  re- 
paid this  outlay,  while  the  pew-rents  were  amply  sufficient  to 
meet  the  current  expenses. 

As  soon  as  possible  after  the  fire,  steps  were  taken  to  put  up 
the  new  building,  which  was  to  be  constructed  on  a  much  larger 
scale  than  the  old  one. 

On  May  29,  1849,  the  corner-stone  was  laid,  and  on  the  first 
Sunday  in  January,  1850,  the  congregation  worshipped  in  their 
new  church. 

The  new  structure  was  built  on  Orange  Street,  and  ran  through 
to  Pineapple.  It  was  really  two  buildings  under  one  roof,  the 
church  proper  being  one  hundred  and  five  feet  long  by  eighty 
broad.  Adjoining  and  opening  into  this,  from  the  rear,  was  a 
lecture-room  of  two  stories,  eighty  by  fifty  feet,  the  second  story 
being  the  Sunday-school. 

The  entire  cost  of  the  new- church  was  about  $36,000,  of 
which  $31,127  was  raised  upon  scrip,  bearing  interest,  payable  in 
pew-rents.  To  provide  for  the  balance,  and  a  mortgage  of  $10,- 
500  on  the  old  property,  the  new  building  was  mortgaged  for 
$16,000.  The  entire  indebtedness  and  all  encumbrances  were 
paid  off  by  1867,  at  which  time  the  church  was  entirely  free  from 
debt. 

The  cost  of  the  lecture-room  and  Sabbath-school  was  about 
$13,000,  of  which  $10,800  were  donated,  the  rest  being  paid 
partly  by  festivals  and  fairs  held  for  the  purpose,  and  partly  from 
the  general  fund  of  the  church. 

The  Sabbath-school  at  this  time  consisted  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  scholars  and  thirty  teachers. 

The  seating  capacity  of  the  pews  and  choir-gallery  of  the 
church    was    about    twenty-one    hundred    persons.       This    was 


2  24  REV-  HENRV   WARD   BEECH RR. 

thought  at  first,  by  some,  to  be  a  very  extravagant  allowance. 
But  in  1857  the  seating  capacity  could  not  supply  the  demand, 
and  folding-seats  were  placed  in  the  aisles,  fixed  to  the  end  of 
each  pew,  and  so  constructed  as  to  fold  up  against  the  pew-side 
when  not  in  use  ;  while  benches  were  set  along  the  walls  all 
around  the  galleries,  and  in  the  vacant  space  in  front  of  the  pul- 
pit. These  accommodated  about  eight  hundred  more,  while  the 
standing  space,  almost  always  occupied  during  the  last  twenty- 
five  years,  permitted  about  three  hundred  more  to  be  present. 

As  his  last  year  at  Indianapolis  had  been  consecrated  by  the 
loss  of  his  little  boy,  so  in  like  manner  were  the  first  in  his  new 
pastorate.  Scarce  had  a  month  passed  when  the  death  of  his 
little  girl  "  Caty  "  became  the  means  of  closer  communion  be- 
tween pastor  and  people  through  the  bonds  of  sympathy  and 
kind  service.     He  wrote  to  his  sister  : 

"  When  Caty  sickened  and  began  her  quiet  march  toward  the 
once  opened  gate,  to  rejoin  the  brother  (cherub  pair),  we  found 
our  house  full  of  friends.  Many  of  the  truest,  deepest  hearts 
asked  no  bidding,  but,  with  instinctive  heart  taught  right,  lived 
with  us  almost  literally  ;  and  when  her  form  was  to  go  forth  from 
us,  they  embowered  her  in  flowers,  winter  though  it  seemed, 
and  every  thought  and  remembrance  of  her  is  sweet  in  itself  and 
sweet  in  its  suggestions. 

"  What  had  I  to  bear  up  against  ?  I  was  held  up  by  increas- 
ing love  and  sympathy  on  every  side.  Of  this  world  I  had  more 
than  heart  could  wish  ;  of  friends,  never  so  many  or  so  worth 
having  ;  and  the  effect,  as  might  be  supposed,  has  answered  to 
the  cause.  I  find  now  that  it  is  with  me  as  with  mountains  in 
spring-time — every  fissure  is  growing  to  a  rill,  every  patch  of  soil 
is  starting  its  flowers,  every  shrub  has  its  insect  and  every  tree 
its  bird." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Plymouth  Church — The    New    Building — Sabbath    Service — Prayer-Meet- 
ing— Weekly  Lecture — Socials — Church  Polity — The  Pastor's  Policy. 

AS  we  have  stated,  Plymouth  Church  took  possession  of  its 
new  building  on  the  first  Sabbath  in  January,  1850.  Then, 
as  on  the  Sabbaths  of  the  nearly  forty  succeeding  years  in 
which  Mr.  Beecher  ministered  here,  the  crowd  came  and  filled 
every  available  seat.  Then  began  that  sound,  once  heard  never 
forgotten,  and  heard  nowhere  else  so  continuously,  of  the  incom- 
ing multitude,  the  tread  of  hurrying  feet  like  the  sound  of  many 
waters,  as  the  crowds,  held  back  for  a  time  until  pew-holders 
have  been  in  part  accommodated,  press  in  and  take  their 
places.  Here,  on  this  first  Sabbath,  arose  that  song  of  thanks- 
giving whose  fulness  and  power  were  for  so  many  years  a  marked 
feature  of  the  religious  service  of  this  great  congregation.  Here 
began  that  long  succession  of  sermons  which  opened  to  so  many 
thousands,  at  first  by  the  voice  and  then  by  the  printing-press, 
the  nearness,  the  righteousness,  and  the  boundless  love  of  God 
revealed  in  Jesus  Christ.  And  here  began  on  that  day  to  as- 
cend those  prayers  which  drew  hearts  into  the  very  presence 
of  the  Most  High  and  left  them  gladdened,  refreshed,  and  filled 
as  with  the  fulness  of  God.  Blessed  old  Plymouth  Church  ! 
Its  every  memory,  its  very  walls  are  dear  unto  multitudes. 

It  was  plain  even  to  bareness — unnecessarily  so  in  the  opinion 
of  many — both  without  and  within,  with  not  the  slightest  effort  at 
show  or  even  ornament.  None  of  those  harmonies  of  color  nor 
graces  of  form,  such  as  are  now  shown  or  attempted  in  almost 
every  church  edifice,  were  here  found.  It  was  builded  with  the 
simple  conscientious  purpose  of  enabling  as  many  as  possible  to 
hear  the  Gospel,  of  affording  every  advantage  to  such  as  wished 
to  meet  together  in  the  prayer-meeting  and  sociable,  and  of  in- 
structing the  young  in  the  Sunday-school.  Herein  lay  the 
beauty  of  the  Plymouth  Church  building  :  its  excellent  adapta- 
tion to  the  great  end  in  view.  More  than  any  church  of  that 
day,  and,  with  all  the  progress  of  later  times,  excelled  by  but 


2  20  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

few,  if  any,  at  the  present  time,  Plymouth  Church  building  af- 
forded superior  accommodations  for  Gospel  hearing  and  spirit- 
ual, educational,  and  social  training.  By  placing  the  seats  in  a 
partial  curve,  by  the  admirable  arrangement  of  the  commodious 
galleries,  and  by  pushing  the  pulpit  well  forward  toward  the  cen- 
tre of  the  circle,  the  vast  audience  of  nearly  three  thousand 
people  were  brought  near  together  and  near  to  the  speaker. 
While  this  enabled  him  to  address  them  with  great  ease,  it 
also  afforded  an  opportunity  for  the  cultivation  of  that  feel- 
ing of  homeness  and  fraternity  that  always  characterized  the 
gatherings  of  this  church  with  its  pastor. 

The  pulpit  was  then,  as  now,  a  plain  platform,  with  no  railing 
in  front,  and  no  other  furniture  than  a  set  of  chairs,  a  stand  for 
notices,  and  an  open  table  for  the  Bible  ;  as  far  removed  as  pos- 
sible from  those  boxes  where  the  man  must  stand,  cramped  and 
stiff,  while  he  delivers  his  message.  An  offering  of  flowers  was 
also  found  there,  the  beginning  of  a  custom  which  has  been  con- 
tinued, we  believe,  without  the  failure  of  a  single  Sabbath,  from 
that  day  to  this. 

Behind  the  pulpit  was  the  organ  and  seats  for  a  choir  of  fifty 
or  more  who  should  lead  the  great  congregation  in  their  songs  of 
praise. 

In  the  rear  of  the  audience-room,  opening  back  into  another 
street,  was  the  lecture  and  prayer-meeting  room,  and  above  this 
were  the  parlors  and  the  Sunday-school  rooms. 

Such  was  the  equipment  that  the  pastor  and  Plymouth 
Church  began  to  use  on  that  first  Sabbath  in  1850.  It  seemed 
to  many  more  than  ample.  The  audience-room  was  more  com- 
modious than  any  in  the  land.  Would  the  young  minister  be 
able  to  fill  it?  Would  he  hold  out?  The  "  six  months"  that 
one  of  Brooklyn's  most  oracular  of  D.D.'s  had  given  "that 
young  man  to  run  out  in"  had  long  since  passed,  and  he  gave,  as 
yet,  no  signs  of  waning  popularity;  but  perhaps  he  will,  and  a  few 
possibly  hoped,  and  some,  it  may  be,  feared,  that  it  would  be  so  ; 
but  by  far  the  larger  part  of  that  great  congregation  praised  God 
that  day  in  joyful  confidence  without  any  fears  or  misgivings. 
They  had  faith  in  their  pastor  as  well  as  in  God  ;  and  he,  con- 
scious that  he  had  builded  sincerely,  without  sham  or  pretence, 
had  no  question  but  that  He  who  had  begun  this  good  work 
would  carry  it  prosperously  forward  to  the  end.     All  these   ap- 


I    War,  i-:k.  22  7 

pliances  had  been  demanded  by  the  thousands  in  attendant  e. 
Their  necessity  was  of  God,  hence  they  could  trust  Him  to  vin- 
dicate His  own  plans.  The  young  pastor  neither  feared  nor  was 
anxious.  He  was  the  Lord's;  let  Him  do  with  him  as  He 
pleased. 

Of  this  feeling  in  connection  with  his  preaching  lie  himself 
says  :  "  I  had  at  that  time  almost  a  species  of  indifference  as  to 
means  and  measures.  I  cared  little,  and  perhaps  too  little, 
whether  I  had  or  had  not  a  church  building.  I  thought  of  one 
thing — the  love  of  Christ  to  men.  This,  to  me,  was  a  burning 
reality.  Less  clearly  than  now,  perhaps,  did  I  discern  the  whole 
circuit  and  orb  of  the  nature  of  Christ  ;  but  with  a  burning  in- 
tensity I  realized  the  love  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ.  I  believed  it 
to  be  the  one  transcendent  influence  in  this  world  by  which 
men  should  be  roused  to  a  higher  manhood  and  should  be  trans- 
lated into  another  and  better  kingdom.  My  purpose  was  to 
preach  Christ  to  men  for  the  sake  of  bringing  them  to  a  higher 
life;  and  though  I  preferred  the  polity  and  economy  of  the  Con- 
gregational churches,  yet  I  also  felt  that  God  was  in  all  the 
other  churches,  and  that  it  was  no  part  of  my  ministry  to  build 
up  sectarian  walls  ;  that  it  was  no  part  of  my  ministry  to  bom- 
bard and  pull  down  sectarian  structures  ;  but  that  the  work  of 
my  ministry  was  to  find  the  way  to  the  hearts  of  men,  and  to 
labor  with  them  for  their  awrakening  and  conversion  and  sancti- 
fication. 

"  I  have  said  that  I  had  no  theory  ;  but  I  had  a  very  strong 
impression  on  my  mind  that  the  first  five  years  in  the  life  of  a 
church  would  determine  the  history  of  that  church  and  give  to 
it  its  position  and  genius  ;  that  if  the  earliest  years  of  a  church 
were  controversial  or  barren  it  would  take  scores  of  years  to 
right  it ;  but  that  if  a  church  were  consecrated,  active,  and  ener- 
getic during  the  first  five  years  of  its  life,  it  would  probably  go  on 
through  generations  developing  the  same  features.  My  supreme 
anxiety,  therefore,  in  gathering  a  church,  was  to  have  all  of  its 
members  united  in  a  fervent,  loving  disposition  ;  to  have  them 
all  in  sympathy  with  men  ;  and  to  have  all  of  them  desirous  of 
bringing  to  bear  the  glorious  truths  of  the  Gospel  upon  the  hearts 
and  consciences  of  those  about  them. 

"  Consequently  I  went  into  this  work  with  all  my  soul,  preach- 
ing night  and  day,  visiting  incessantly,  and  developing  as   fast 


2  28  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

and  as  far  as  might  be  that  social,  contagious  spirit  which  we 
call  a  revival  of  religion." 

The  services  in  the  church  were  then,  as  ever  since,  in  har- 
mony with  the  building — simple  and  without  ostentation,  differ- 
ing from  those  of  other  Congregational  churches  only  in  the  spi- 
rit of  unusual  heartiness  and  the  impression  of  unusual  power. 

When  the  bell  ceased  tolling  the  organ  began  its  work  of  pre- 
paring the  hearts  of  the  great  multitude  for  worship.  Then  fol- 
lowed the  invocation  by  the  pastor,  always  devout,  always  joyful 
and  trustful,  uniformly  sincere,  and  always  varied.  No  set 
phrase  ever  took  possession  and  held  in  its  formal  grasp  the  ex- 
pression of  his  praise  and  expectant  prayer  : 

"  Thou  that  dost  hold  the  sun,  and  pour  forth  therefrom  the 
light  and  glory  of  the  day,  from  Thine  own  self  let  there  come, 
streaming  as  the  daylight,  those  influences  that  shall  awake  in  us 
all  hope  and  all  gladness  of  love.  For  we  sleep  except  when 
Thy  beams  are  upon  us.  Only  when  we  are  in  God  are  we  alive. 
Let  us  in,  O  our  Father  !  and  may  all  that  is  within  us  rise  up 
to  worship  Thee.  Accept  our  service  according  to  what  we 
would  do  and  according  to  what  Thou  wouldst  have  us  do. 
Bless  the  word  and  the  reading  thereof.  Bless  our  songs  of 
praise  and  our  fellowship  therein.  Bless  our  communion  one 
with  another  and  with  Thee.  Bless  us  in  our  meditation,  in  the 
services  of  the  day,  at  home,  and  everywhere.  Make  this  a 
golden  day  to  our  souls,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Redeemer. 
Amen." 

Then  followed,  in  those  early  days — in  later  years  he  often 
omitted  it — the  reading  of  the  hymn,  simply,  with  no  straining 
after  effect,  but  so  as  to  give  the  full  meaning  of  the  words  to  be 
sung,  and  in  a  measure  to  interpret  their  spirit.  The  singing 
which  followed,  so  full  and  appreciative,  was  something  to  re- 
member. It  was  the  voices  of  the  multitude  joining  and  blending 
in  one  great,  full  song  of  adoration  and  thanksgiving. 

The  reading  of  the  Scripture  was  usually  without  comment, 
but  so  vivid  to  his  thought  were  the  great  truths  uttered,  and  so 
flexible  was  his  voice  in  giving  them  expression,  and  so  natural 
the  adaptation  of  his  whole  manner  to  their  import,  that  his  sim- 
ple reading  gave  a  better  understanding  of  Scripture  than  the 
explanations  of  most  other  men. 

The  prayer  that  followed  the  hymn  was  very  marked  in  its 


REV.  HENRI    WARD  Hi-:  EC  HER.  2  2Q 

general  characteristics,  comprehensive,  and  adapted  to  the  occa- 
sion and  the  needs  of  the  people  before  him.  It  invariably  gave 
expression  to  a  thankful  spirit,  lamented  sins  and  failures,  was 
permeated  with  a  yearning  desire  for  communion  with  God  and 
with  great  sympathy  with  men,  class  after  class  of  whom  he 
brought  before  the  Heavenly  Father  for  deliverance,  comfort, 
and  blessing. 

The  sermon  was  long,  consuming  from  three-quarters  of 
an  hour  to  an  hour,  and  sometimes  more,  in  delivery,  and 
usually  combined  in  a  very  marked  degree  the  three  elements, 
the  exegetical,  the  philosophic,  and  the  hortatory.  He  delighted 
in  giving  a  full  and  broad  opening  of  Scripture,  that  all  might 
be  quickened  and  fed  ;  in  showing  the  relation  and  harmony  of 
the  truths  thus  presented  to  other  truths  already  admitted,  mak- 
ing their  bearings  clear  by  frequent  illustrations,  and  pressing 
them  in  the  progress  of  the  sermon,  and  especially  at  the  close, 
upon  the  acceptance  of  his  hearers.  His  preaching  informed, 
convinced,  inspired,  and  moved  men  to  decisive  action  Godward, 
or  it  was,  in  his  view,  a  failure. 

The  benediction  with  which  the  services  closed  was  as  if  he 
saw  the  hands  of  the  living  Saviour  stretched  out  over  His  be- 
loved people,  and  he  became  but  a  mouthpiece  for  the  solemn 
and  tender  expression  of  His  beneficence. 

Then  followed  the  informal  after-meeting,  unadvertised  and 
unarranged — the  pressing  forward  to  the  pulpit,  or  the  waiting 
in  the  aisles  until  he  should  pass  out,  of  some  who  perhaps  had  a 
word  of  thanks  for  help  received  in  the  sermon,  of  others  asking 
questions  or  bearing  messages,  of  strangers  who  wished  to  press 
his  hand,  or  of  troubled  ones  who  wanted  a  word  of  cheer.  The 
meeting  continued  down  the  aisle,  out  into  the  porch,  out  on  to 
the  street,  as  friends  still  walked  along  with  him,  talking  as  they 
went. 

The  weekly  meetings  of  the  church,  besides  Sabbath  services 
and  the  Sunday-school,  at  this  early  period,  were  three  :  a  "  Lec- 
ture," Tuesday  evening  ;  a  "  Sociable,"  Thursday  evening;  and  a 
Prayer-meeting,  Friday  evening. 

The  weekly  lecture  was  a  familiar  meeting  of  the  church 
family  and  their  friends,  where,  in  simple  and  colloquial  speech, 
the  pastor  instructed  them  in  the  things  that  pertain  to  the  spirit- 
ual  life.     It  was  always  spoken  of,  not  as  a  sermon,  but  as  a 


236  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

" Lecture- Room  Talk."  The  subjects  chosen  were  practical,  like 
these,  given  in  the  order  in  which  he  delivered  them  :  "  Groping 
after  God,"  "  Praying  for  Others,"  "  Fervency  of  Religious  Feel- 
ing," "  Conversing  with  the  Impenitent,"  picked  up  in  his  inter- 
course with  his  people,  selected  with  direct  reference  to  solving 
doubts,  removing  difficulties,  and  securing  spiritual  growth  and 
activity.  In  these,  perhaps  more  than  anywhere  else,  he  dis- 
played the  resources  of  his  great  common  sense,  revealed  the 
depth  of  his  spiritual  life,  and  drew  most  largely  on  the  wealth 
of  his  own  Christian  experience. 

The  prayer-meetings  did  not  differ  in  form  from  those  that 
are  common  in  Congregational  churches.  A  moment  before  the 
hour  for  the  meeting  Mr.  Beecher  came  upon  the  platform,  threw 
his  hat  upon  the  floor  by  the  side  of  his  chair,  sat  down,  and, 
throwing  back  his  cloak,  took  up  the  "  Plymouth  Collection,"  and, 
the  instant  the  bell  ceased  tolling,  without  rising,  gave  out  in  a 
clear,  firm  voice  the  number  of  some  familiar  hymn,  usually  of 
thanksgiving.  The  pianist  wasted  no  time  in  playing  the  tune 
through,  but  struck  the  opening  note  firmly,  the  audience  joined 
without  delay  and  sang  without  dragging,  and  the  meeting  gained 
that  most  important  advantage — a  good  send-off.  No  sooner  had 
the  hymn  ceased  than  the  pastor  arose  and  read  a  passage  from  a 
Bible  which  he  held  in  his  hand.  He  then  led  in  a  prayer,  sim- 
ple, confiding,  hopeful,  tender,  that  helped  all  weary  and  waiting 
souls  to  realize  that  they  were  in  the  presence  of  their  very 
best  Friend,  and  gave  them  needed  help.  Another  hymn,  given 
out  in  the  same  manner  and  sung  with  the  same  spirit,  follow- 
ed. Then,  that  there  might  be  no  break  in  the  movement  of 
the  service,  looking  at  the  individual  addressed,  usually  some 
one  of  the  old  warriors  upon   the   front    seats,    he   would    say, 

"Will  Brother lead  us  in  prayer?"     When  this  prayer  was 

finished  his  eye  seemed  to  take  a  broader  range  and  search  out 
some  of  the  younger  and  less  experienced  to  bring  them  into 
the  work.  Woe  be  to  you  then  if  you  have  come  in  late, 
taken  a  back  seat,  and  tried  to  keep  out  of  sight  !  He  seemed 
to  know  instinctively  where  you  were,  and  how  you  felt,  and  how 
essential,  if  you  would  enjoy  the  meeting,  that  this  ice  should  be 
broken  ;  and  on  this  second  call  for  leaders  you  would  be  very 
likely  to  hear  your  name  pronounced  with  that  same  kind  but 
authoritative  intonation  that  you  could  neither  pretend  not  to  hear 


RE  I '.  UENR  V  II  A RD  BEE  i  'HER.  2  3  I 

nor  refuse  to  obey.  Another  hymn  increases  the  kindly  warmth 
of  Christian  feeling  that  lias  begun  to  pervade  the  audience  like 

an  atmosphere,  and  under  its  inspiration  other  prayers  are  offered, 
at  this  stage  by  volunteers  ;  experiences  are  related,  often  by  the 
pastor;  questions  are  asked  upon  some  practical  difficulty,  and 
answers  are  given  ;  failures  and  sins  are  confessed  and  lamented, 
and  prayers  are  requested  and  offered,  until  the  hour  was  passed 
all  too  quickly.  Another  hymn,  and  then  the  benediction  closes 
the  meeting. 

The  social  meetings,  for  the  accommodation  of  which  Mr. 
Beecher  added  the  parlors — at  that  time  an  unusual  feature  of  a 
church — were  a  very  earnest  attempt  made  by  him  in  the  meri- 
dian of  his  social  power  and  enthusiasm,  and  in  a  church  more 
than  ordinarily  inspired  by  his  loving  spirit,  to  overcome  the 
separations  which  different  conditions  and  dissimilar  social  train- 
ing and  surroundings  bring  about  in  the  Church  of  Christ,  and 
to  realize  as  nearly  as  possible  the  family  ideal.  A  sewing-meet- 
ing was  held  in  the  afternoon  for  some  benevolent  enterprise, 
followed  by  a  plain  tea  to  which  all  were  invited.  Friends 
dropped  in,  pleasant  conversation  ensued,  and  perhaps  a  few  se- 
lections of  reading  or  song,  prepared  for  the  occasion,  were 
given.  "  Mr.  Beecher  then  took  his  stand  in  the  centre  of  the 
large  room,  rapped  with  his  pencil  and  called  his  flock  around 
him,  and  gave  them  ten  minutes  of  appreciative,  kindly,  witty, 
helpful  talk.  '  Plymouth  Collection  of  Hymns '  was  then  handed 
round,  and  everybody  sang,  or  tried  to.  After  this,  prayer  and 
'good-night.'  "  This  was  about  the  outline,  and  for  several  years 
it  was  moderately  successful  ;  but  busy  times  crowded  in  upon  it, 
unregulated  elements  worked  into  it,  getting  and  doing  more  harm 
than  good,  and  at  length  it  was  given  up,  and  the  members  of 
Plymouth  Church  chose  their  companions  according  to  social 
affinities,  similarity  of  position,  and  circumstances,  like  other 
people. 

Such  preaching  and  labors,  with  such  appliances,  under  the 
blessing  of  God  were  sure  to  bring  abundant  results,  and  revivals 
followed  each  other  in  quick  succession  all  through  those  early 
years  ;  in  fact,  Plymouth  Church  thus  far  during  its  whole  his- 
tory may  be  called  a  revival  church. 

Its  polity  was  Congregational,  as  we  find  in  its  manual  of 
1850: 


232  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

"  This  church  is  an  independent  ecclesiastical  body,  and  in 
matters  of  doctrine,  order,  and  discipline  is  amenable  to  no 
other  organization.  This  church  will  extend  to  other  evangelical 
churches  and  receive  from  them  that  fellowship,  advice,  and  as- 
sistance which  the  laws  of  Christ  require." 

His  own  policy  toward  the  church  is  given  in  these  words  : 

"  I  have  never  managed.  I  have  never  employed  manage- 
ment. I  have  tried  to  inspire  kind  feelings  and  thus  lead  men  to 
take  up  their  crosses.  I  have  never  sought  to  exert  my  authority, 
but  to  promote  the  utmost  freedom  of  thought  and  action.  .  .  . 
I  have  maintained  from  the  beginning  the  most  profound  desire 
that  there  should  be  a  church-life  among  you  quite  independent 
of  me,  and  that  as  the  pulpit  was  independent,  so  should  the 
pews  be  also.  I  have  scrupulously  avoided  meddling  with  the 
liberties  of  this  church,  except  to  enforce  them.  My  simple  aim 
from  the  beginning  has  been  to  develop  among  you  as  high  a 
standard  of  manhood,  and  of  Christian  manhood,  as  the  infirmity 
of  human  nature  would  permit  ;  and  for  that — the  exaltation  of 
manhood  in  Christ  Jesus — I  have  labored  in  season  and  out  of 
season  :  not  without  flaw,  not  without  fault,  not  without  sin,  but, 
as  God  is  my  witness,  with  every  power  of  my  soul  and  body  and 
understanding,  from  year  to  year." 

Such  was  Plymouth  Church  as  she  stood  a  score  and  a  half 
and  more  years  ago,  and  as  she  still  remains. 

"  Beautiful  for  situation,  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth  is  this  our 
Mount  Zion  "  well  expresses  the  feelings  of  multitudes  as  they 
recall  these  years  and  remember  these  places.  Her  streets  of 
Sabbath  service  and  work-day  conference  and  prayer  were  con- 
tinually trodden  by  eager  crowds,  and  were  made  beautiful  and 
attractive  by  the  Christian  fellowship  that  grew  up  and  blossom- 
ed here  on  every  side  under  the  inspiration  and  culture  of  one 
who  himself  so  trustfully,  hopefully,  and  exultingly  walked  with 
God. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

Beginning  of  the  Great  Battle — Five  Great  Eras — Compromise  Measures 
of  1S50 — "Shall  We  Compromise " — The  Fugitive  Slave  Law  De- 
nounced— Right  of  Free  Speech  Defended — Commercial  Liberty — 
Fighting  Casie — Liberty  of  the  Pulpit  Defended — Quickness  of  Re- 
tort— Sentiment  of  the  Times — Reaction  — Vi sit  of  Kossuth — Election 
of  1S52— The  Parker  Controversy — Degraded  into  Liberty — John 
Mitchel — Garrison — Close  of  this  Era. 

OTHER  things  than  opening  the  church  building  contributed 
to  make  1850  an  eventful  year  to  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 
In  that  year  slavery  came  to  the  place  of  supreme  inte- 
rest in  our  national  affairs  which  it  never  afterwards  lost  until  it 
was  swept  away  in  the  battle-storm  of  1861-65. 

The  very  month  that  Plymouth  Church  took  possession  of  its 
new  house,  the  first  month  of  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, Henry  Clay  submitted  a  series  of  resolutions  in  the  Senate 
of  the  United  States  as  "  compromise  measures  for  a  final  and 
complete  adjustment  of  the  slavery  question."  In  the  debate, 
passage,  and  enforcement  of  these  measures,  the  utterly  antago- 
nistic nature  of  the  two  contending  elements,  liberty  and  slavery, 
which  had  been  brought  together  under  our  Constitution,  became 
so  evident  ;  slavery,  from  the  very  necessity  of  self-preservation, 
became  so  aggressive,  advanced  claims  so  comprehensive  and  so 
forced  the  fighting,  that  the  very  measures  intended  to  com- 
promise the  whole  difficulty  made  it  clear  that  there  could  be  110 
compromise.  There  could  be  no  amicable  adjustment  of  inte- 
rests so  diametrically  opposed  ;  one  or  the  other,  liberty  or  sla- 
very, must  take  undivided  and  undisputed  possession  of  the  gov- 
ernment. From  debate  of  words  the  conflict  passed  rapidly  to 
the  argument  of  arms,  first  on  the  plains  of  Kansas  and  even- 
tually over  the  whole  southern  half  of  our  country,  developing 
into  the  greatest  civil  war  ever  known  in  the  world's  history — a 


234  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

war  in  comparison  with  which,  in  the  numbers  engaged  on  either 
side,  in  the  breadth  of  the  battle-field,  in  the  agents  of  de- 
struction employed  and  the  important  interests  at  stake,  Eng- 
land's Wars  of  the  Roses,  and  even  the  strife  of  the  rival  claim- 
ants for  the  imperial  purple  of  Rome,  were  insignificant  and 
secondary  contests. 

The  part  of  this  great  slavery  conflict  in  which  Mr.  Beecher 
was  actively  engaged  had  five  distinct  eras,  clearly  marked  by 
well-defined  boundaries,  each  presenting  peculiar  difficulties  of 
its  own  to  be  overcome,  and  each  bringing  forward  peculiar  and 
important  questions  for  solution.  The  first  began  with  the  agita- 
tion of  the  Compromise  measures  of  1850,  and  ended  in  the 
passage  of  those  measures  and  their  enforcement,  more  or  less 
complete,  during  the  uneasy  years  of  1850  and  1853. 

The  second  began  with  the  proposition  to  repeal  the  Missouri 
Compromise  measures  and  continued  through  what  was  known  as 
"The  Kansas  Struggle,"  until  April  1,  1858,  when  the  first  sub- 
stantial victory  ever  won  by  the  free  States  was  gained  in  Con- 
gress in  the  permission  to  give  the  actual  residents  of  Kansas  a 
fair  vote  upon  the  question  of  the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  the 
infamous  Lecompton  Constitution. 

The  third  began  with  the  abandonment  by  the  slave-power  of 
its  dependence  upon  legislative  enactments,  which  its  defeat  in 
Kansas  had  proved  to  be  futile,  and  the  inauguration  of  an  era 
of  secession  and  violence,  and  ended  with  the  Proclamation  of 
Emancipation,  which  took  effect  January  1,  1863,  and  which  le- 
gally destroyed  slavery  in  all  the  States  in  rebellion,  and  sub- 
stantially within  the  whole  domain  of  the  United  States. 

The  fourth  era  began  with  the  issuing  the  Proclamation  of 
Emancipation;  extended  through  two  years  and  more  of  battle  by 
which  the  proclamation  was  carried  into  effect,  and  slavery  was 
destroyed  de  facto  as  it  had  already  been  de  jure,  and  foreign  in- 
tervention was  prevented  ;  and  ended  with  raising  the  flag  over 
Sumter,  the  sign  of  the  restoration  of  our  national  authority  over 
a  free  and  undivided  national  domain. 

The  fifth  includes  the  period  of  reconstruction,  in  which  the 
difficult  task  of  bringing  the  States,  once  in  rebellion  but  now 
submissive,  back  into  the  Union  was  successfully  accomplished. 
It  covers  the  ground  from  the  close  of  the  war  to  the  present 
time,  or,  more  properlv,   from   the   death   of  President    Lincoln, 


RE  I '.  HE  .\/v'  V  WARD  BE  E  (  I  U.K.  235 

when  the  South  lav  prostrate  at  the  feet  <>t  the  vi<  torious  North, 
to  the  election  ol   President  Cleveland,  when,  as   Mr.   Beecher 

hoped  ami  believed,  se<  tional  lines  were  obliterated  and  the 
South  once  more  saw  the  candidate  she  favored  raised  to  be  the 
chief  magistrate  of  our  common  country. 

Tlie  Compromise  measures  of  1850  were  conceived  tor  the 
purpose  of  re  moving  the  serious  and  dangerous  complications  that 
had  arisen,  between  the    North   and  the  South,  in  the  attempt  to 

mize  the  territory  recently  acquired  from  Mexico,  and  in 
admitting  California  as  a  free  State  with  a  constitution  for  ever 
prohibiting  slavery  within  her  borders.  The  South  felt  that  such 
an  addition  to  the  free  States  would  so  disturb  the  balance  of 
power  between  the  sections  that  something  must  be  given  her  as  a 
compensation.  Hence  these  Compromise  measures,  which  pro- 
vided for  the  admission  of  California  as  a  free  State,  but  gave  the 
South,  as  an  offset,  a  more  stringent  Fugitive  Slave  Law  and  paid 
Texas  ten  millions  of  dollars  for  the  adjustment  of  her  State 
boundaries.  Honestly  intended,  no  doubt,  and  urged  by  the 
mover,  Henry  Clay,  and  accepted  by  many  who  disliked  it,  from 
patriotic  motives,  this  Compromise  wras,  nevertheless,  wrong  in 
principle  and  proved  only  mischievous  in  results.  It  rested  on 
the  false  theory  that  the  development  of  both  liberty  and  slavery 
was  equally  the  duty  of  the  Republic,  and  that  whatever  gain  was 
made  by  the  former  must  be  equalized  to  the  latter  by  some  new 
concession,  and  led  to  constantly  increasing  disturbance  in  both 
sections.  While  failing  to  satisfy  the  more  radical  men  of  the 
South,  it  was  utterly  abhorrent  to  a  much  larger  body  at  the 
North.  It  seemed  to  the  latter  to  be  but  another  great  step 
taken  by  the  slave-power  in  its  attempt  to  gain  possession  of  the 
whole  land.  The  first  had  been  the  Missouri  Compromise,  in 
which  slavery,  surrendering  what  it  never  owned — viz.,  the  ter- 
ritory north  of  360  30',  called  Mason  and  Dixon's  line — gained 
Missouri  and  a  quasi  right  to  all  territory  south  of  that  line.  In 
this  second  great  step  now  proposed  they  did  not  fail  to  note 
that  the  provision  to  prohibit  slavery  in  the  newly-acquired  terri- 
tories, called  the  "  Wilmot  Proviso,"  had  been  defeated  in  Con- 
gress, nor  fail  to  see  that  in  these  Compromise  measures,  should 
they  be  carried,  the  slave-power  would  secure  the  right  to  hunt 
and  capture  its  fugitives  in  every  city,  town,  and  home  of  the  free 
States,  and  to  compel  every  Northern  citizen  to  aid  in  the  work, 


236  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

thus  making,  so  far  as  fugitives  were  concerned,  slave  territory  of 
the  whole  North.  They  saw  in  this  measure  a  great  advance 
towards  nationalizing  this  institution  and  securing  for  it  the  right, 
aimed  at  by  its  advocates  from  the  first,  to  go  unquestioned  and 
protected  wherever  the  authority  of  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  was  recognized.  If  this  were  passed  they  felt  it 
to  be  not  at  all  improbable  that  the  threat  of  Senator  Toombs,  of 
Georgia,  to  call  the  roll  of  his  slaves  from  the  steps  of  Bunker 
Hill  Monument,  would  be  executed,  and  they  opposed  it  with 
an  energy  born  both  of  conviction  and  abhorrence.  In  this  op- 
position none  were  more  strenuous  than  Mr.  Beecher.  Speaking 
of  this  period,  he  says  : 

"  In  1850,  when  the  controversy  came  up  about  Clay's  Omni- 
bus Bill,  including  the  Fugitive  Slave  Laws,  I  was  thoroughly 
roused,  and  in  the  pulpit  and  with  my  pen  I  attacked  with  the  ut- 
most earnestness  the  infamous  Fugitive  Slave  Bill.  It  was  then 
that  I  wrote  that  article,  '  Shall  we  Compromise  ? '  It  was  read 
to  John  C.  Calhoun  on  his  sick-bed  by  his  clerk,  and  he  raised 
himself  up  and  said  :  '  Read  that  article  again.'  The  article 
was  read.  4  The  man  who  says  that  is  right.  There  is  no  alter- 
native. It  is  liberty  or  slavery.'  And  then,  when  Webster 
made  his  fatal  apostasy  on  March  7,  1850,  I  joined  with  all 
Northern  men  of  any  freedom-loving  spirit  in  denouncing  it 
and  in  denouncing  him.  Forthwith,  after  a  paralysis  of  a  few 
weeks,  his  friends  determined  to  save  him  by  getting  all  the  old 
clergymen — such  men  as  Dr.  Spring,  Dr.  Lord  of  Dartmouth,  and 
the  Andover  professors — to  take  his  part.  The  effort  was  to  get 
every  great  and  influential  man  in  the  North  to  stand  up  for 
Webster;  and  then  it  was  that  I  flamed.  They  failed  utterly.  Pro- 
fessor Woolsey  of  New  Haven,  Dr.  Bacon,  Dr.  Hopkins,  President 
of  Williams  College  in  Massachusetts,  and  various  other  most 
influential  men,  absolutely  refused  to  sustain  Webster." 

In  the  issue  of  the  Independent  of  February  21,  1850,  filling 
three  columns,  we  have  the  famous  article  referred  to  above. 
We  quote  only  enough  to  indicate  its  spirit  and  line  of  argu- 
ment :  * 

*This  article  entire  can  be  found  in  Mr.  Beecher's  '  Patriotic  Ad- 
dresses," published  by  Fords,  Howard  &  Hulbert,  New  York  City. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER,  237 

"  Ml  \i  1     WE    <  OMPROMISE  ? 

u  Mr.  Clay's  Compromise  has  been  violently  resisted  by  the 
South  and  but  coldly  looked  upon  by  the  North. 

"  It  is  not  that  both  sides  are  infatuated  and  refuse  a  n 
able  settlement  ;  but  the  skill  of  Mr.  Clay  has  evidently  not 
touched  the  seat  of  the  disease.  He  either  has  not  perceived  or 
!ias  not  thought  it  expedient  to  meet  the  real  issue  now  be- 
fore the  people  of  the  United  States.  The  struggle  now  going 
on  is  a  struggle  whose  depths  lie  in  the  organization  of  society  in 
the  North  and  South  respectively  ;  whose  causes  are  planted  in 
the  Constitution.  There  are  two  incompatible  and  mutually  de- 
structive principles  wrought  together  in  the  government  of  this 
land.  .  .  .  These  elements  are  slavery  and  liberty.  .  .  .  One  or 
the  other  must  die. 

"...  The  South  now  demands  room  and  right  for  extension. 
She  asks  the  North  to  be  a  partner.  For  every  free  State  she  de- 
mands one  State  for  slavery.  One  dark  orb  must  be  swung  into 
its  orbit,  to  groan  and  travail  in  pain,  for  every  new  orb  of  lib- 
erty over  which  the  morning  stars  shall  sing  for  joy. 

"  ...  It  is  time  for  good  men  and  true  to  gird  up  their  loins 
and  stand  forth  for  God  and  humanity.  No  compromises  can 
help  us  which  dodge  the  question,  certainly  none  which  settle 
it  for  slavery.   .  .  . 

"  There  never  was  a  plainer  question  for  the  North.  It  is  her 
duty  openly,  firmly,  and  for  ever  to  refuse  to  slavery  another 
inch  of  territory,  and  to  see  to  it  that  it  never  gets  it  by  fraud. 
It  is  her  duty  to  refuse  her  hand  or  countenance  to  slavery  where 
it  now  exists.  It  is  her  duty  to  declare  that  she  will  under  no 
consideration  be  a  party  to  any  farther  inhumanity  and  injus- 
tice. .  .  . 

"  Mr.  Clay's  Compromise  resolutions  demand  better  provision 
for  the  recovery  of  fugitive  slaves,  and  a  bill  is  now  pending  in 
the  United  States  Senate  for  that  purpose.  On  this  matter  our 
feelings  are  so  strong  that  we  confess  a  liability  to  intemperance 
of  expression. 

"If  the  compromises  of  the  Constitution  include  requisitions 
which  violate  humanity,  I  will  not  be  bound  by  them.  Not  even 
the  Constitution  shall  make  me  unjust.  If  my  patriotic  sires 
confederated   in  my  behalf  that   I    should   maintain   that   instru- 


238  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ment,  so  I  will  to  the  utmost  bound  of  right.  But  who,  with 
power  which  even  God  denies  to  Himself,  shall  by  compact  fore- 
ordain me  to  the  commission  of  inhumanity  and  injustice  ?  I 
disown  the  act.  I  repudiate  the  obligation.  Never  while  I  have 
breath  will  I  help  any  official  miscreant  in  his  base  errand  of  re- 
capturing a  fellow-man  for  bondage  ;  and  may  my  foot  palsy 
and  my  right  hand  forget  her  cunning  if  I  ever  become  so  un- 
true to  mercy  and  to  religion  as  not  by  all  the  means  in  my  power 
to  give  aid  and  succor  to  every  man  whose  courageous  flight  tells 
me  he  is  worthy  of  liberty  ! 

"...  From  those  compromises,  like  Mr.  Clay's,  which  seek 
for  peace  rather  than  for  humanity — from  such  compromises, 
guileless  though  they  seem,  and  gilded  till  they  shine  like 
heaven,  evermore  may  we  be  delivered." 

This  battle  in  Congress  resulted,  like  every  battle  since  the 
adoption  of  the  Constitution,  in  a  victory  for  the  slave  party.  In 
September  of  this  year,  1850,  the  Compromise  measures,  which 
had  passed  both  Houses  of  Congress,  were  signed  by  President 
Fillmore  and  became  by  a  very  decided  majority  the  law  of  the 
land.  Many  things  had  contributed  to  this  result.  On  the  one 
hand,  there  was  a  strong  party  in  the  South,  representing  largely 
the  sentiment  of  that  whole  section,  who  felt  themselves  aggrieved 
and  deprived  of  their  rights  under  the  Constitution,  since  they 
could  not  carry  their  property  with  them  into  the  common  terri- 
tory of  the  Union,  and  who  saw  in  these  Compromise  measures  a 
step  in  the  direction  of  nationalizing  their  peculiar  institution  ; 
on  the  other  the  commercial  and  manufacturing  interests  of  the 
North  demanded  a  cessation  of  strife,  that  they  might  enter  into 
the  prosperity  opened  to  them  by  the  discovery  of  the  gold 
upon  our  Western  coast  ;  again,  the  fear  of  disruption,  if  the  bit- 
ter discussion  in  Congress  should  continue,  reconciled  many  to 
such  measures  as  promised  peace  ;  also,  the  habit  of  compromise, 
which  had  been  early  formed,  and  stood  apparently  justified  by 
years  of  prosperity  and  growth,  made  it  easier  to  again  adopt 
this  course  ;  and,  perhaps  more  influential  than  any  other,  the 
leaders  most  beloved  and  trusted  at  the  North  were  in  favor 
of  the  measure.  Henry  Clay  was  its  originator,  and  Daniel 
Webster,  the  great  expounder  of  the  Constitution,  in  his  fatal 
speech  of  March  7,  1850,  had  justified  the  Compromise  mea- 
sures, spoke  not  a  word  in  condemnation   of  the  legal  or  moral 


K'l  r.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

crudities  and  enormities  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  and  had  re- 
served the  lightning  of  his  sarcasm  and  the  thunder  of  his  con- 
demnation for  the  Abolitionists: 

u  Nothing  can  be  plainer  than  that  all  parties  in  the  state  were 

drifting  in  the  dark,  without  any  comprehension  of  the  elemental 
causes  at  work.     Without   prescience  or  sagacity,   like  ignorant 
physicians,  they  prescribed  at  random  ;  they  sewed  on  pat* 
new   compromises  on   old  garments,  sought  to  conceal   the  real 

depth  of  the  danger  of  the  gathering  torrent  by  crying  peace  ! 
peace  !  to  each  other.  In  short,  they  were  seeking  to  medicate 
volcanoes  and  stop  earthquakes  by  administering  political  qui- 
nine. The  wise  statesmen  were  bewildered  and  politicians  were 
juggling  fools." 

If  the  anti-slavery  men  of  the  North  hated  the  Compromise, 
and  especially  the  Fugitive  Slave  clause  in  it,  while  it  was  being 
debated  in  Congress,  their  abhorrence  was  increased  a  thousand- 
fold now  that  all  it  had  cost  and  all  it  threatened  was  in  a  mea- 
sure comprehended.  Looking  at  it  calmly,  they  saw  that  safe- 
guards which  from  time  immemorial  had  gathered  around  the 
individual  to  protect  him  in  person  and  liberty  had,  for  a  very 
large  class  in  the  community,  been  suddenly  destroyed. 

Trial  by  jury  was  denied.  Opportunity  for  the  accused  to 
summon  witnesses  in  his  own  defence  was  not  given,  and  "  in  no 
trial  or  hearing  under  this  act  shall  the  testimony  of  such  alleged 
fugitives  be  admitted  to  evidence."  He  had  no  hearing  before 
any  competent  judge,  but  before  a  commissioner  appointed  to 
take  depositions,  who,  whatever  his  ability  or  lack  of  ability, 
was  clothed  by  this  infamous  act  with  plenary  power  in  the  pre- 
mises. 

On  the  simple  certificate  of  this  man  the  unhappy  victim  was 
hurried  off  at  once  into  slavery,  and  no  stay  of  proceedings  or 
liberty  of  appeal  was  granted.  Dumb,  undefended,  his  destiny 
at  the  mercy  of  any  accuser,  and  of  a  commissioner  possibly 
ignorant  and  possibly  vicious,  the  accused  was  consigned  to  a 
state  worse  to  many  than  death. 

Aimed  at  a  particular  class,  its  injustice  was  seen  to  be  indis- 
criminate enough  to  make  an  attack  possible  upon  individuals  of 
any  class;  and  its  provisions  for  the  deprivation  of  a  single  right 
made  necessary  such  a  stringency  in  the  exercise  of  other  rights 
as  could  not  be  tolerated  in  a  free  communitv. 


24O  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Atrocious  in  itself,  it  became  still  more  offensive  and  danger- 
ous by  reason  of  the  ease  with  which  its  provisions  could  be  em- 
ployed by  villains  for  kidnapping  negroes,  or  even  white  men, 
who  had  never  been  slaves.  It  was  stated  and  believed  that 
along  the  whole  line  between  the  slave  and  free  States  arresting 
fugitives  at  once  became  a  regular  business,  with  very  little  care 
in  many  instances  as  to  the  previous  liberty  or  slavery  of  those 
arrested.  Instances  were  continually  being  recorded  of  colored 
boys  and  girls  being  unexpectedly  spirited  away  and  hurried  off 
into  bondage.  Great  activity  in  this  work  of  securing  fugitives 
who  had  lived  in  the  North  for  years  prevailed,  and  fear  and  ap- 
prehension took  possession  of  the  whole  negro  population  of  that 
section,  and  a  corresponding  indignation  grew  hot  in  the  hearts 
of  multitudes  of  freemen. 

Scenes  and  incidents  were  continually  transpiring  and  pub- 
lished in  the  newspapers  that  stirred  the  one  party  to  greater 
hatred  of  the  institution  of  slavery,  and  the  other  party  to  greater 
hatred  to  the  means,  regular  or  irregular,  that  were  employed  to 
prevent  the  carrying  out  of  its  purpose. 

As  may  well  be  supposed,  Mr.  Beecher  speaks  with  no 
greater  affection  for  this  measure,  now  that  it  has  become  a 
law,  than  when  it  was  being  debated  in  Congress. 

In  a  Star  paper  that  appeared  October  3,  upon  "  The  Fugi- 
tive Slave  Bill  at  its  Work,"  he  meets  it  with  undisguised  and 
open  defiance.  "  With  such  solemn  convictions  no  law  impious 
to  God  and  humanity  shall  have  respect  or  observance  at  our 
hands.  If  in  God's  providence  fugitives  ask  bread  or  shelter, 
raiment  or  conveyance,  from  us,  my  own  children  shall  lack  bread 
before  they ;  my  own  flesh  shall  sting  with  cold  ere  they  shall  lack 
raiment  ;  I  will  both  shelter  them,  conceal  them,  or  speed  their 
flight,  and  while  under  my  shelter  or  my  convoy  they  shall  be 
to  me  as  my  own  flesh  and  blood  ;  and  whatsoever  defence  I 
would  put  forth  for  my  own  children,  that  shall  these  poor,  de- 
spised, and  persecuted  creatures  have  in  my  house  or  upon  the 
road." 

He  follows  with  another  very  thoughtful  and  able  article  upon 
"  Law  and  Conscience"  in  defence  of  his  position,  and  for  the 
instruction  of  those  who  were  in  doubt  what  course  to  take  in  the 
conflicting  claims  of  the  law  of  the  land  on  one  side  and  their 
feelings  of  humanity  upon  the  other. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER.  24 1 

In  the  first  place,  he  makes  the  duty  of  obedience  to  law  very 
strong  : 

"  Nothing  could  be  more  mischievous  than  the  prevalence  of 
the  doctrine  that  a  citizen  may  disobey  an  unjust  or  burdensome 
law.  Should  that  liberty  be  granted,  the  bad,  the  selfish,  the 
cruel  and  grasping,  might  disregard  wholesome  laws  as  easily  as 
just  men  unjust  laws.  It  would  constitute  every  man  a  court  in 
his  own  case  ;  and  a  court,  too,  in  which  selfishness  would  pre- 
side.    Society  could  not  exist  for  a  day. 

"  It  is  a  question  seriously  asked  by  thousands  :  How  can  we 
as  good  citizens  subscribe  to  such  wholesome  doctrine  and  yet 
openly  resist  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  ?  Many  reasons  make  it  im- 
portant that  this  question  should  be  thoroughly  answered.  There 
are  thousands  who  say  that  this  law  must  be  obeyed,  and  who, 
with  the  next  breath,  bravely  and  generously  declare  that  never- 
theless, should  a  distressed  fugitive  ask  succor,  shelter,  and  guid- 
ance at  their  hand,  he  should  have  them.  But  this  is  breaking 
the  law.  To  keep  this  law  you  must  not  shelter  a  slave  mother 
fleeing  to  her  free  husband  in  the  North,  nor  a  slave  girl  whose 
foot  bounds  at  the  sound  of  a  pursuer,  as  if  it  were  the  knell  of 
virtue.  You  must  not  give  direction  to  a  fugitive,  though  his 
head  be  white  and  his  old  limbs  reveal  half  a  century  of  unre- 
quited toil  ;  though  a  man  say  to  you,  in  the  awful  agony  of  his 
soul,  '  Kill  me,  but  for  the  love  of  God  do  not  betray  me  !  '  the 
law  enjoins  you  to  go  with  the  officer,  if  he  summon  you,  and 
help  in  his  arrest  !  The  minister  of  the  Gospel,  the  humane 
philanthropist,  peacefully  walking  to  the  Sabbath-sounding  bell, 
must  turn  aside  and  help  some  scoundrel  hireling  to  run  down 
his  slave,  if  the  marshal  command  him,  or  break  the  law  !  " 

He  then  lays  down  this  general  principle  : 

"  Every  citizen  must  obey  a  law  which  inflicts  injury  upon  his 
person,  estate,  and  civil  privilege,  until  legally  redressed  ;  but  no 
citizen  is  bound  to  obey  a  law  which  commands  him  to  inflict  in- 
jury upon  another.  We  must  endure  but  never  commit  wrong. 
We  must  be  patient  when  sinned  against,  but  must  never  sin 
against  others.  The  law  may  heap  injustice  upon  me,  but  no  law 
can  authorize  me  to  pour  injustice  upon  another.  When  the  law 
commanded  Daniel  not  to  pray  he  disobeyed  it  ;  when  it  com- 
manded him  to  be  cast  into  the  lions'  den  he  submitted. 

"  A  law  which  enjoins  upon  a  citizen  the  commission  of  a 


1\1  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

crime,  and  still  more  of  an  open,  disgraceful,  and  flagitious  crime, 
has  violated  the  confidence  of  the  citizen,  and  is  dissolved  in  the 
court  of  God  the  moment  it  is  enacted. 

"  Let  no  man  stand  uncommitted,  dodging  between  daylight 
and  dark,  on  this  vital  principle.  Let  every  man  firmly  and 
openly  take  sides.  This  vibrating  between  humanity  for  the  fu- 
gitive and  conscience  for  the  law,  this  clandestine  humanity  in 
spite  of  law,  to  which  the  lips  only  give  a  sullen  and  pouting 
obedience,  is  not  consistent  with  sincerity  and  open-hearted  in- 
tegrity. We  adjure  every  Christian  man,  every  man  to  whom  con- 
science is  more  than  meat,  and  honor  better  than  thrift,  to  stand 
forth  and  enunciate  the  invincible  truth  of  the  Christian's  creed  : 
Obedience  to  laws,  even  though  they  sin  against  me :  disobedience  to 
every  law  that  commands  me  to  sin." 

His  conviction  of  the  origin  of  this  whole  trouble,  his  policy 
concerning  it,  and  his  confidence  in  the  working  out  of  natural 
causes  are  well  set  forth  in  an  article  at  this  period  upon  "  The 
Cause  and  Cure  of  Agitation  ": 

"  It  ought  primarily  to  be  understood  that  our  Constitution 
has  invited  this  whole  conflict  which  has  raged  about  it.  Had  the 
framers  been  gifted  with  prescience  they  would,  we  cannot  but 
think,  have  regarded  the  inevitable  future  mischief  of  that  com- 
promise by  which  slavery  had  its  rights  embedded  in  a  constitu- 
tion of  liberty,  as  too  great  to  be  risked.  They  acted  with  the 
light  which  they  had.  They  swaddled  and  laid  in  one  cradle  two 
infant  forms.  These  were  rocked  together  and  grew  up  together; 
but  one  was  a  wolf's  cub  and  the  other  a  lamb.  Both  were  alike 
peaceful  at  birth — for  a  lion's  whelp  when  first  dropped  is  as  gen- 
tle as  a  doe.  Growth  brought  forth  separate  natures.  Then  ap- 
peared hostility.     Each  acted  to  its  nature. 

"  Our  policy  for  the  future  is  plain.  All  the  natural  laws  of 
God  are  warring  upon  slavery.  We  have  only  to  let  the  process 
go  on.  Let  slavery  alone.  Let  it  go  to  seed.  Hold  it  to  its  own 
natural  fruit.  Cause  it  to  abide  by  itself.  Cut  off  every  branch 
that  hangs  beyond  the  wall,  every  root  that  spreads.  Shut  it  up 
to  itself  and  let  it  alone.  We  do  not  ask  to  interfere  with  the  in- 
ternal policy  of  a  single  State  by  Congressional  enactments  :  we 
will  not  ask  to  take  one  guarantee  from  the  institution.  We  only 
ask  that  a  line  be  drawn  about  it ;  that  an  insuperable  bank  be 
cast  up ;   that  it  be  fixed  and  for  ever  settled  that  slavery  must 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  2.}  3 

find  do  new  sources,  uew  fields,  new  prerogatives,  but  that  it  must 

abide  in  its  place,  subject  to  all  the  legitimate  changes  which  will 
be  brought  upon  it  by  the  spirit  of  a  nation  essentially  demo- 
cratic, by  schools  taught  by  enlightened  men,  by  colleges  sending 
annually  into  every  profession  thousands  bred  to  justice  and  hat- 
ing it>  reverse,  by  churches  preaching  a  gospel  that  has  always 
heralded  civil  liberty,  by  manufactories  which  always  thrive  best 
when  the  masses  are  free  and  refined  and  therefore  have  their 
wants  multiplied,  by  free  agriculture  and  free  commerce. 

"When  >lavery  begins,  under  such  a  treatment,  to  flag,  we  de- 
mand that  she  be  denied  political  favoritism  to  regain  her  loss  ; 
we  demand  that  no  laws  be  enacted  to  give  health  to  her  paraly- 
sis and  strength  to  her  relaxing  grasp.  She  boldly  and  honestly 
demanded  a  right  to  equality  with  the  North,  and  prophetically 
spoke  by  Calhoun,  that  the  North  would  preponderate  and  crush 
her.  It  is  true.  Time  is  her  enemy.  Liberty  will,  if  let  alone, 
always  be  a  match  for  oppression.  Now,  it  is  because  statesmen 
propose  stepping  in  between  slavery  and  the  appointed  bourne  to 
which  she  goes,  scourged  by  God  and  nature,  that  we  resent  these 
statesmen  and  refuse  to  follow  them.  If  her  wounds  can  be 
stanched,  if  she  may  have  adventitious  aid  in  new  privileges,  sla- 
very will  renew  her  strength  and  stave  off  the  final  day.  But  if 
it  be  forbidden  one  additional  favor  and  be  obliged  to  stand  up 
by  the  side  of  free  labor,  free  schools,  free  churches,  free  institu- 
tions ;  if  it  be  obliged  to  live  in  a  land  of  free  books,  free  pa- 
pers, and  free  Bibles,  it  will  either  die  or  else  it  ought  to  live." 

He  ridicules  those  measures  that  had  been  adopted  North 
and  South  to  enforce  the  peace,  and  compares  those  who  keep 
agitating  against  agitation  to  poor  old  "  crazy  Dinah  ''  who  used 
to  sit  on  the  pulpit  stairs  in  Litchfield.  lc  Once  she  began  talk- 
ing, but,  startled  at  her  want  of  manners,  she  said  out  loud  : 
'Why,  I'm  talking!  I'm  talking  in  meetin'  ?  There,  I  spoke 
again.  I  ought  not  to  speak.  There,  I  spoke  once  more.  Tut, 
tut !  why,  I  keep  a-speaking.' ' 

While  advocating  at  this  time,  as  ever  afterwards,  the  ut- 
most liberty  of  discussion,  he  stated  his  creed  in  these  words  : 
"  There  is  nothing  so  safe  in  a  free  country  as  free  discussion, 
nothing  so  dangerous  as  the  suppression  of  it  ;  peace  and  liberty 
of  speech,  violence  and  intolerance,  respectively  go  together." 

He  argued  and  advised  in  a  lengthy  paper  against  "  the  usual 


244  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

unfortunate  concomitants  of  controversy,  bitterness,  railing,  un- 
fairness, and  exaggerated  prejudices. 

"  We  have  not  the  least  objection  to  the  most  unbounded 
ardor  of  expression,  to  the  most  enthusiastic  convictions,  ex- 
pressed in  the  most  positive  manner,  so  long  as  they  relate  to 
truths  or  principles.  But  when  the  propagandist  comes  to  regard 
those  who  do  not  receive  his  views  as  devoid  of  all  principle  and 
necessarily  dishonest,  and  becomes  offensively  personal,  then  con- 
troversy is  morbid  and  mischievous.  And  as  nothing  gives  such 
vigor  to  like  or  dislike  as  conscience,  so  they  who  profess  to  be 
conscientious  are  often  conscientiously  bitter.  There  is  no  re- 
vulsion against  men  or  measures  so  violent  as  that  of  pure  and 
honorable  men.  A  man  consciously  right  should  watch  against 
severe  judgments  of  others.  It  is  sad  and  curious  to  observe  the 
progress  of  exaggerated  impressions  of  personal  character.  Those 
who  do  not  follow  our  conscience  on  the  slavery  question  are 
often,  nevertheless,  on  the  whole,  more  conscientious  men  than 
we.  Those  whose  reasonings  we  pronounce  cold  and  inhuman  are 
not  cold  or  inhuman  men.  Those  whose  commercial  interests 
reduce  them,  as  it  seems  to  us,  to  a  policy  on  this  particular  ques- 
tion which  outrages  justice  and  rectitude,  are  in  their  private 
character  most  estimable  for  truth,  and  even  for  tender  sympathy. 
Indeed,  this  is  often  shown  in  strange  contrast ;  for  the  very  men 
who  give  their  counsel  and  zeal  and  money  against  the  unseen 
slave  of  the  South  irresistibly  pity  the  particular  fugitive  whom 
they  may  see  running  through  the  North.  They  give  the  Union 
Committee  money  to  catch  the  slave,  and  give  the  slave  money  to 
escape  from  the  Committee." 

All  who  were  acquainted  with  Mr.  Beecher  know  that  the 
course  he  advised  for  others  he  persistently  and  conscientiously 
pursued  himself.  We  doubt  if  any  man  ever  lived  who  was  en- 
gaged in  so  many  severe  battles  and  carried  into  them  or  brought 
from  them  so  little  bitterness. 

Such  a  vigorous  treatment  of  large  and  vital  questions  com- 
manded a  following  ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  this  young  minis- 
ter from  the  West  was  recognized  as  one  of  the  great  anti- slavery 
leaders  and  had  a  national  reputation.  Men  at  the  South  began 
to  hate  him  ;  men  at  the  North,  conservatives  whose  business 
interests  were  wrapped  up  in  the  present  state  of  things,  whose 
goods   and  principles   were   equally  for  sale  in   Southern    mar- 


RK  i  \  ttENR  v  ir.i  KD  BE  E  ( Ht  A'.  245 

kets,  were  horrified  and  alarmed  at  his  unwise  sayings,  his  blas- 
phemous use  of  the  pulpit  for  political  ends,  and  his  fiery  de- 
nunciations of  the  nation's  pet  institution,  lint  over  against 
these  there  was  another  class,  daily  growing  larger,  whose  con- 
sciences were  set  free  by  his  clear  discrimination  of  a  citizen's 
and  a  Christian's  duty,  whose  intelligence  was  broadened  and 
enlarged  by  his  lofty  views,  and  whose  hearts  were  set  on  fire  b) 
his  mighty  enthusiasm  and  abounding  love.  This  body  daily  in- 
creased in  numbers  and  came  more  and  more  to  share  the  spirit  of 
their  leader.  Whatever  he  wrote  they  read.  Whenever  he  spoke 
the  size  of  church  or  hall  alone  decided  the  number  of  hearers. 
Without  ambition,  without  self-seeking,  with  a  simple,  earnest 
desire  to  do  his  work  as  God  revealed  it  to  him,  unrasped  by 
hatreds,  he  had  come  to  a  place  and  leadership  as  broad  and 
high  as  there  was  in  the  land.  With  cheek  still  ruddy  with 
youth,  with  eyes  from  which  the  laughter  never  died  out  except 
when  the  tears  of  sympathy  filled  them  or  the  deep  things  of 
God  veiled  them,  with  a  heart  that  was  in  sympathy  with  all 
nature  round  him,  and  which  nature  and  He  who  is  above 
nature  fed  with  perennial  freshness,  with  a  voice  that  could  in- 
terpret every  emotion,  with  that  excellent  health  that  makes  the 
body  a  perfect  channel  of  expression  for  the  mind  and  a  com- 
plete instrument  for  its  service,  he  stands  like  a  David  just  come 
from  his  sheepfolds,  free,  unencumbered,  and  singing  as  he 
strikes. 

In  the  progress  of  this  discussion  upon  the  Compromise  mea- 
sures, which  had  its  centre  in  Congress,  but  in  which  every  ham- 
let, almost  every  household,  in  the  North  had  a  share,  other  ques- 
tions came  to  the  front  as  parts  of  the  great  controversy. 

Among  the  earliest  of  these  was  the  right  of  free  speech 
— a  right  utterly  unknown  where  slavery  was  in  power,  and  al- 
ways bitterly  attacked  where  it  had  influence.  As  may  well  be 
expected,  it  found  in  Mr.  Beecher  one  of  its  most  strenuous 
champions.  Early  in  his  career  he  urged  all  the  claims  of 
friendship,  risked  the  safety  of  his  new  church  building,  and 
defied  the  New  York  and  Brooklyn  mob,  then  under  the  control 
of  the  notorious  Captain  Rynders,  in  its  defence. 

In  a  sermon  preached  in  1884  upon  the  death  of  Wendell 
Phillips  he  gives  an  account  of  his  experience  in  this  matter  : 

"It    is  a    part  of   the  sweet    and    pleasant    memories    of  my 


246  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

comparative  youth  here  that  when  the  mob  refused  to  let  him 
speak  in  the  Broadway  Tabernacle  before  it  was  moved  up-town, 
William  A.  Hall,  now  dead — a  fervent  friend  and  Abolitionist — 
had  secured  the  Graham  Institute,  on  Washington  Street,  in 
Brooklyn,  wherein  to  hold  a  meeting  where  Mr.  Phillips  should 
be  heard.  I  had  agreed  to  pray  at  the  opening  of  the  meeting. 
On  the  morning  of  the  day  on  which  it  was  to  have  taken  place 
I  was  visited  by  the  committee  of  that  Institute  (excellent  gentle- 
men, whose  feelings  will  not  be  hurt,  because  they  are  all  now 
ashamed  of  it :  they  are  in  heaven),  who  said  that,  in  consequence 
of  the  great  peril  that  attended  a  meeting  at  the  Institute,  they 
had  withdrawn  the  liberty  to  use  it  and  paid  back  the  money, 
and  that  they  called  simply  to  say  that  it  was  out  of  no  disrespect 
to  me,  but  from  fidelity  to  their  supposed  trust.  Well,  it  was  a 
bitter  thing.  If  there  is  anything  on  earth  that  I  am  sensitive  to 
it  is  the  withdrawing  of  the  liberty  of  speech  and  thought.  Henry 
C.  Bowen  said  to  me  :  '  You  can  have  Plymouth  Church,  if  you 
want  it.'  '  How  ? '  '  It  is  a  rule  of  the  church  trustees  that 
the  church  may  be  let  by  a  majority  vote  when  we  are  con- 
vened ;  but  if  we  are  not  convened,  then  every  trustee  must 
give  his  consent  in  writing.  If  you  choose  to  make  it  a  personal 
matter  and  go  to  every  trustee,  you  can  have  it.'  He  meanwhile 
undertook,  with  Mr.  Hall,  to  put  new  placards  over  the  old  ones, 
notifying  men  quietly  that  the  meeting  was  to  be  held  here,  and 
distributing  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  hand-bills  at 
the  ferries.  No  task  was  ever  more  welcome.  I  went  to  the 
trustees  man  by  man.  The  majority  of  them  very  cheerfully  ac- 
corded the  permission.  One  or  two  of  them  were  disposed  to 
decline  and  withhold  it.  I  made  it  a  matter  of  personal  friend- 
ship :  '  You  and  I  will  break  if  you  don't  give  me  this  permis- 
sion,' and  they  signed.  So  the  meeting  glided  from  Graham 
Institute  to  this  house.  A  great  audience  assembled.  We  had 
detectives  in  disguise,  and  every  arrangement  made  to  handle 
the  subject  in  a  practical  form  if  the  crowd  should  undertake  to 
molest  us." 

Neither  at  this  nor  any  other  time  was  an  attack  actually  made 
upon  Plymouth  Church,  although  many  times  in  its  history  have 
angry  men  gathered  in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  evidently 
bent  on  mischief,  but  were  restrained  from  violence  by  the 
bold  bearing  of  many  in  the  audience  who  were  known  not  to  be 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  VER.  2.\J 

Quakers,  and   by  the  present  e  of  the  poller,  who  were  kepi  well 
informed  of  their  intentions. 

Another   of   the    secondary   battles    that  were    fought    early   in 

this  year  was  one  for  commercial  liberty. 

The  South,  by  the   help,   and   perhaps   by   the    instigation,  of 
hern  co-operators,  attempted  nothing  less  than  to  boycott 

r)  commercial  or  manufacturing  company  that  was  opp< 
to  them  upon  the  great  political  questions  of  the  day.  A  great 
ion  Saving  Committee  "  was  formed  in  New  York,  and  met 
in  Castle  Garden  and  made  out  a  black-list  of  the  merchants  that 
were  anti-slavery,  from  whom  the  South  were  to  withdraw  their 
patronage.  Mr.  Beecher  not  only  preached  against  the  outrage, 
but  visited  from  store  to  store  to  uphold  the  courage  of  the  mer- 
chants. 

He  says  :  "  Mr.  Bowen  was,  of  course,  included  in  that  black- 
list, and  threatened  with  the  loss  of  all  his  Southern  custom.  He 
came  to  me  and  asked  me  if  I  would  not  write  a  card  for  him, 
and  I  undertook  to  do  it;  but,  my  head  not  running  very  clear, 
the  only  thing  I  got  at,  after  making  three  or  four  attempts,  was, 
'My  goods  are  for  sale,  but  not  my  principles,'  but  I  could  not 
lick  it  into  shape,  and  I  gave  the  paper  to  him  and  said,  '  You 
must  fix  it  yourself.'  He  took  it  to  Hiram  Barney,  and  he  drew 
up  the  card  in  the  shape  in  which  it  appeared,  including  that 
sentence,  which  was  the  snap  of  the  whole  thing/' 

"  My  goods  are  for  sale,  but  not  my  principles  }'  became  a 
war-cry  for  the  independent  business  men  of  the  day,  and  had 
immense  influence  upon  commercial  action. 

He  fought  the  petty  ostracism  of  the  North,  and  apparently 
with  success  : 

"  I  never  preached  on  that  subject.  I  never  said  to  the  peo- 
ple in  this  congregation,  from  the  beginning  to  this  day,  'You 
ought  to  let  colored  folks  sit  in  your  pew.'  I  preached  the  dig- 
nity of  man  as  a  child  of  God,  and  lifted  up  the  sanctity  of 
human  life  and  nature  before  the  people.  They  made  the  appli- 
cation, and  they  made  it  wisely  and  well. 

"When  I  came  here  there  was  no  place  for  colored  men  and 
women  in  the  theatre  except  the  negro  pen  ;  no  place  in  the 
opera  ;  no  place  in  the  church  except  the  negro  pew  ;  no  place 
in  any  lecture-hall  ;  no  place  in  the  first-class  car  on  the  railways. 
The  white  omnibus  of  Fulton  Ferry  would  not  allow  colored  per- 


248  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

sons  to  ride  in  it.  They  were  never  allowed  to  sit  even  in  the 
gentlemen's  cabin  on  the  boats. 

"  I  invited  Fred  Douglass,  one  day  in  those  times,  to  come  to 
church  here.  'I  should  be  glad  to,  sir,'  said  he  ;  '  but  it  would 
be  so  offensive  to  your  congregation.'  'Mr.  Douglass,  will  you 
come  ?  And  if  any  man  objects  to  it,  come  up  and  sit  on  my 
platform  by  me.     You  will  always  be  welcome  there." 

"  At  the  Fulton  Ferry  there  are  two  lines  of  omnibuses,  one 
white  and  the  other  blue.  I  had  been  accustomed  to  go  in  them 
indifferently  ;  but  one  day  I  saw  a  little  paper  stuck  upon  one  of 
them,  saying  :  '  Colored  people  not  allowed  to  ride  in  this  omni- 
bus.' I  instantly  got  out.  There  are  men  who  stand  at  the  door 
of  these  omnibus  lines,  urging  passengers  into  one  or  the  other. 
I  am  very  well  known  to  all  of  them ;  and  the  next  day,  when  I 
came  to  the  place,  the  gentleman  serving  asked  :  '  Won't  you  ride, 
sir?'  *  No,'  I  said  ;  'I  am  too  much  of  a  negro  to  ride  in  that 
omnibus.'  I  called  the  attention  of  every  one  I  met  to  that  fact, 
and  said  to  them  ;  *  Don't  ride  in  that  omnibus,  which  violates 
your  principles,  and  my  principles,  and  common  decency  at  the 
same  time.'  I  do  not  know  whether  this  had  any  influence,  but 
I  do  know  that  after  a  fortnight's  time  I  had  occasion  to  look  in 
and  the  placard  was  gone."' 

But  perhaps  the  most  important,  at  all  events  the  hardest- 
fought,  battle  of  this  era  was  in  behalf  of  the  liberty  of  ministers 
of  the  Gospel  to  preach  in  their  pulpits  for  the  slave  and  against 
the  atrocities  of  slavery. 

It  sprang  from  the  publication,  by  an  influential  New  York 
daily  paper,  of  an  article  in  which  it  was  threatened  that  clergy- 
men who  spoke  in  their  pulpits  upon  slavery  "  would  have  their 
coats  rolled  in  the  dirt."  Mr.  Beecher  at  once  took  up  the  glove 
in  his  own  defence  and  that  of  his  brethren  who  thought  it  their 
duty  to  preach  on  this  subject.  He  entered  into  an  examination 
of  the  whole  status  of  the  slave  with  great  thoroughness,  and  gath- 
ered his  materials  for  defence  and  attack  from  Southern  sources. 
A  report  made  to  the  Synod  of  South  Carolina  and  Georgia  in 
1833  says  :  "  They  have  no  Bible  to  read  by  their  own  firesides  ; 
they  have  no  family  altars  ;  and  when  in  affliction,  sickness,  or 
death,  they  have  no  minister  to  address  to  them  the  consolations 
of  the  Gospel. 

"  They  are  destitute  of  the  privileges  of  the  Gospel,  and  ever 


A'/  V.  HENRY  WARD  BBECNER.  2.JQ 

will  be,  under  the  present  state  of  things.     They  may  justly  be 

considered    the    heathen  of   this  country,  and  will  bear  a  <  uinjKin- 

son  with  heathen  in  any  country  in  the  world." 

"  Says  Judge  Ruftin,  of  North  Carolina,  in  a  case  brought 
against  defendant  for  shooting  and  wounding  a  woman  who  en- 
deavored to  run  away  from  a  whipping:  'With  slavery  it  is  far 
otherwise.  The  end  is  the  profit  of  the  master,  his  security,  and 
the  public  peace.  The  subject  is  one  doomed  in  his  own  person 
and  in  his  posterity  to  live  without  knowledge,  and  without  ca- 
pacity to  make  anything  his  own,  and  to  toil  that  others  may  reap 
the  fruits.'  " 

Aroused  by  such  testimony  from  reports  of  religious  bodies 
and  the  decisions  of  the  courts,  he  exclaims,  with  hot  indigna- 
tion : 

"  Yet  the  pulpit,  whose  echoes  roll  over  the  heathenism  of  the 
globe,  must  be  dumb  ! 

"  It  is  vain  to  tell  us  that  hundreds  of  thousands  of  slaves  are 
church-members  ;  does  that  save  women  from  the  lust  of  their 
owners  ?  does  it  save  their  children  from  being  sold  ?  does  it  save 
parents  from  separation  ?  In  the  shameless  processions  every 
week  made  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Gulf  are  to  be  found  slaves 
ordained  to  preach  the  Gospel,  members  of  churches,  baptized 
children,  Sunday-school  scholars  carefully  catechised,  full  of  Gos- 
pel texts,  fat  and  plump  for  market.  What  is  religion  worth  to 
a  slave,  except  as  a  consolation  from  despair  when  the  hand  that 
breaks  to  him  the  bread  of  communion  on  Sunday  takes  the 
price  of  his  blood  and  bones  on  Monday,  and  bids  him  God- 
speed on  his  pilgrimage  from  old  Virginia  tobacco-fields  to  the 
cotton-plantations  of  Alabama? 

"  What  is  church  fellowship,  and  church  privilege,  and  church 
instruction  worth  if  the  recipient  is  still  as  much  a  beast,  just  as 
little  loved,  just  as  ruthlessly  desolated  of  his  family,  just  as 
coolly  sold,  as  if  he  were  without  God  and  without  hope  ?  What 
motive  is  there  to  the  slave  to  strive  for  Christian  graces,  when, 
if  they  make  him  a  real  man,  they  are  threshed  out  of  him  ;  or,  if 
they  make  him  a  more  obedient  and  faithful  man,  raise  his  mar- 
ket price  and  only  make  him  a  more  merchantable  disciple  of 
Christ  ?  It  is  the  religious  phase  of  slave-life  that  reveals  the 
darkest  features  of  that  all-perverting  system." 

Ridiculing  the  idea  that  it  takes  distance  to  make  a  topic  fit 


25O  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

for  the  pulpit,  and  upbraiding  the  ministry,  who  are  engaged  in 
snatching  here  and  there  a  child  from  the  Ganges,  and  have  no 
words  for  those  children  that,  here  at  home,  every  year  are 
snatched  from  the  parents'  bosom  and  sold  everywhither,  he 
says  : 

"  It  requires  distance,  it  seems,  to  make  a  topic  right  for  the 
pulpit.  Send  it  to  Greenland  or  to  Nootka  Sound,  and  you  may 
then  practise  at  the  far-away  target.  And  the  reason  of  such 
discrimination  seems  to  be  that  preaching  against  foreign  sins 
does  not  hurt  the  feelings  nor  disturb  the  quiet  of  your  congre- 
gation ;  whereas,  if  the  identical  evils  at  home  which  we  deplore 
upon  the  Indus  or  along  the  Burampootra  are  preached  about, 
the  Journal  says  that  it  will  risk  the  minister's  place  and  bread 
and  butter  ;  and  it  plainly  tells  all  Northern  ministers  that  if  they 
meddle  with  such  politics  they  will  have  their  coats  rolled  in  the 
dirt.  Will  the  Journal  tell  us  how  many  leagues  off  a  sin  must 
be  before  it  is  prudent  and  safe  for  courageous  ministers  to 
preach  against  it  ? 

"  Every  year  thousands  of  women  are  lashed  for  obstinate 
virtue,  and  tens  of  thousands  robbed  of  what  they  have  never  been 
taught  to  prize,  and  the  Journal  stands  poised  to  cast  its  javelin 
at  that  meddlesome  pulpit  that  dares  speak  of  such  boundless  li- 
centiousness, and  send  it  to  its  more  appropriate  work  of  evangel- 
izing the  courtesans  of  Paris  or  the  loose  virtue  of  Italy  !  And  it 
assures  us  that  multitudes  of  clergymen  are  thanking  it  for  such 
a  noble  stand.  Some  of  those  clergymen  we  know.  The  plat- 
forms of  our  benevolent  societies  resound  with  their  voices, 
urging  Christianity  to  go  abroad,  stimulating  the  Church  not  to 
leave  a  corner  of  the  globe  unsearched  nor  an  evil  unredressed. 
But  when  the  speech  is  ended  they  steal  in  behind  the  Journal  to 
give  it  thanks  for  its  noble  stand  against  the  right  of  the  pulpit  to 
say  a  word  about  home-heathen — about  their  horrible  ignorance, 
bottomless  licentiousness,  and  about  the  mercenary  inhumanity 
which  every  week  is  selling  their  own  Christian  brethren,  baptized 
as  much  as  they,  often  preachers  of  the  Gospel  like  themselves, 
eating  from  the  same  table  of  the  Lord,  praying  to  the  same 
Saviour,  listening  to  snatches  of  that  same  Bible  (whose  letters 
they  have  never  been  permitted  to  learn),  out  of  which  these 
reverend  endorsers  of  the  Journal  preach  !  " 

He   shows  that  the   slavery   of  New  England  never  was  the 


REV.  HENRY  ward  li  EEC  her.  251 

slivery  of  the  South  :  M  The  slavery  of  the  South  in  our  day 
adopts  the  Roman  civil  law  as  the  basis  of  its  code.  .  .  .  Now, 
New  England  never  held  a  slave  on  the  basis  of  the  Roman  civil 
law,  but  under  a  law  which  was  expressly  enacted  for  the  benefit 
of  the  slave  and  for  the  ultimate  destruction  of  slavery — viz.,  the 
Hebrew  law  of  slavery.  No  system  of  slavery,  in  this  land,  can 
be  profitable  which  does  not  put  the  slave  under  a  regimen 
which  denies  him  the  rights  of  manhood.  The  North,  on  the 
basis  of  the  Hebrew  slavery  law,  found  it  out  ;  she  refused  to  go 
further  and  sacrifice  her  religious  scruples.  The  South,  on  the 
basis  of  the  Roman  civil  law,  imbibed  its  inhuman  spirit,  put  on 
the  screws,  and  forced  the  system  into  its  present  legal  attitude, 
with  a  written  code  more  infamous  than  the  unwritten  law  of  any 
pirate's  deck." 

He  proves  that  the  North  never  sold  out  her  slaves,  with  a 
profit,  to  "her  partners  in  the  South,  and  so  closed  up  the  busi- 
ness," by  showing  that  in  most  of  the  Northern  States  the  slaves 
were  set  free  by  the  decisions  of  the  courts  upon  the  adoption 
of  the  State  constitutions,  and  that  in  the  meantime  their  masters 
were  forbidden,  under  heavy  penalties,  to  sell  them  South. 

In  New  York  gradual  emancipation  was  enacted,  and  not 
only  was  the  sale  of  slaves  out  of  the  borders  forbidden,  but 
masters  travelling  with  their  slaves  in  the  South  were  required  to 
give  heavy  bonds  for  the  safe  return  of  the  same. 

These  words  reveal  his  own  spirit  in  the  discussion : 

"In  exploring  this  wilderness  of  inhumanity,  filled  with  the 
shapes  and  motley  sights  of  degradation,  I  live  in  a  perpetual 
struggle  how  to  calm  the  natural  expressions  of  an  honest  soul 
into  that  measured  phrase  that  may  best  suit  the  sated  public 
ear.  If  one  overhang  this  abyss  until  his  spirit  do  drink  in 
its  very  import,  his  soul  must  be  full  of  thunder  and  his  words 
glance  like  fire.  Neither  are  these  feelings  the  foul  engenderings 
of  fanaticism.  They  are  the  true  feelings  of  a  heart  taught  to  hate 
injustice  and  degrading  wrong,  by  that  nature  which  God  gave  it ; 
by  the  Bible  which  educated  it ;  by  the  law  under  which  it  was 
made,  and  by  the  public  sentiment  in  which  it  has  been  bred.  It 
is  with  a  sense  of  shame  that  we  see  strong  words  for  oppression 
granted  an  unapologized  liberty  to  walk  up  and  down  as  they 
will ;  while  he  who  speaks  for  freedom  must  rake  up  his  ardor 
under   the  ashes  of  a  tame  propriety,  and  stand  to  answer  for 


252  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

want  of  a  Gospel  spirit  if  indignation  at  double  and  treble 
wrongs  do  sometimes  give  forth  a  bolt  !  Nevertheless,  we  hope  ; 
we  trust ;  we  pray ;  and  hoping,  trusting,  and  praying,  we 
soothe  ourselves  in  such  thoughts  as  these:  'From  this  shame, 
too,  thou  shalt  go  forth,  O  world  !  God,  who,  unwearied  sitting 
on  the  circle  of  the  earth,  hath  beheld  and  heard  the  groanings 
and  travaihngs  of  pain  until  now.  and  caused  Time  to  destroy 
them  one  by  one,  shall  ere  long  destroy  thee,  thou  abhorred  and 
thrice  damnable  oppression  cancerously  eating  the  breasts  of 
liberty.'  " 

He  concludes  by  giving  his  views  upon  the  position  of  the 
pulpit,  and  utters  this  solemn  protest  : 

"  Therefore,  against  every  line  of  the  Coward's  Ethics  of  the 
Journal  we  solemnly  protest,  and  declare  a  minister  made  to  its 
pattern  fitter  to  be  sent  to  the  pyramids  and  tombs  of  Egypt 
to  preach  to  old-world  mummies  than  to  be  a  living  man 
of  God  among  living  men,  loving  them  but  never  fearing  them  ! 
God  be  thanked  that  in  every  age  hitherto  pulpits  have  been 
found,  the  allies  of  suffering  virtue,  the  champions  of  the  op- 
pressed !  And  if  in  this  day,  after  the  notable  examples  of 
heroic  men  in  heroic  ages,  when  life  itself  often  paid  for 
fidelity,  the  pulpit  is  to  be  mined  and  sapped  by  insincere 
friends  and  insidious  enemies,  and  learn  to  mix  the  sordid  pru- 
dence of  business  with  the  sonorous  and  thrice  heroic  counsels 
of  Christ,  then,  O  my  soul,  be  not  thou  found  conspiring  with 
this  league  of  iniquity  ;  that  so,  when  in  that  august  day  of 
retribution  God  shall  deal  punishment  in  flaming  measures  to 
all  hireling  and  coward  ministers,  thou  shalt  not  go  down,  under 
double-bolted  -thunders,  lower  than  miscreant  Sodom  or  thrice- 
polluted  Gomorrah  !  " 

Some  idea  of  his  mode  of  address  and  quickness  in  retort  at 
that  day  will  appear  from  extracts  from  his  speech  at  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  American  and  Foreign  Anti-Slavery  Society,  and 
two  incidents  that  occurred  at  this  meeting.  Mr.  Beecher  an- 
swered the  Scriptural  argument  for  the  return  of  fugitives,  based 
on  the  return  of  Onesimus,  in  this  manner  :  "There  are  two  ways 
of  sending  fugitives  back  into  slavery.  One  is  the  way  Paul 
sent  back  the  slave  Onesimus.  Now,  if  people  will  adopt  that 
way  I  will  not  object.  In  the  first  place,  he  instructed  him  in 
Christianity  and  led  him  to  become  a  Christian  ;  then  he  wrote  a 


aw-:  v.  ///■:. v A' ) '  WA  aw)  m: i  cher.  253 

letter  and  sent  it  by  Onesimus  himself.     N"ow,  I  should  like  to 

Marshal  or    Marshal  somebody  else,  of  this  city,  send  bock 

ve  in  this  way.  In  the  first  place,  the  marshal  would  take 
him  and  teach  him  the  catechism,  and  pray  with  him,  and  convert 
him,  and  then  write  a  letter  to  his  master  telling  him  to  receive 
him  as  a  brother  beloved  ;  and  then  the  slave  goes  of  his  own 
free  will  to  his  master,  and  walks  into  the  house,  and,  with  his 
broad,  black,  beaming  face,  says  :  '  How  d'ye  do,  my  brother  ? 
and  how  d'ye  do,  my  sister?'  "  The  broad,  beaming  face  which 
he  himself  wore  as  he  described  this  scene  and  personated  this 
character  was  irresistibly  comical,  and  nothing  more  was  heard  in 
that  quarter  of  Paul's  return  of  fugitives. 

It  was  in  this  speech  that,  in  describing  the  situation  of  the 
slave,  he  says  : 

"  They  are  married  and  separated  in  the  South  until  perhaps 
they  have  twenty  wives."  [A  voice:  "There  are  men  in  New 
York  City  who  have  twenty  wives."]  "  I  am  sorry  for  them,"  he 
answered  at  once.     "  I  go  for  their  immediate  emancipation  !  " 

He  read  extracts  from  the  law  as  laid  down  by  some  of  the 
able  members  of  the  Southern  bench  in  South  Carolina  and 
Louisiana,  to  show  that  slaves  are  mere  goods  and  chattels. 

"The  slave,"  he  exclaimed,  "is  made  just  good  enough  to  be 
a  good  slave  and  no  more.  It  is  a  penitentiary  offence  to  teach 
him  more." 

Here  a  person  among  a  group  in  one  corner  of  the  gallery  ex- 
claimed: "  It's  a  lie  !  " 

"  Well,  whether  it's  a  penitentiary  offence  or  not,  I  shall  not 
argue  with  the  gentleman  in  the  corner,  as  doubtless  he  has  been 
there  and  ought  to  know." 

Such  was  the  voice  that  began  to  attract  attention  throughout 
the  whole  land.  It  was  as  truthful  and  earnest  as  that  of  the  old 
Abolitionists,  but  took  in  a  broader  range  of  subjects  and  was 
inspired  by  a  higher  spirit  than  theirs  ;  it  was  as  politic  in  its  ut- 
terances as  that  of  the  prince  of  politicians,  Martin  Van  Buren. 
but  it  was  the  policy  of  right  and  justice ;  it  had  in  it  the  strength 
of  Webster's,  but  argued  from  truer  premises  than  he  ;  it  was 
as  popular  as  Henry  Clay's,  but  its  sympathy  was  broader  than 
his  ;  it  was  the  voice  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher  as  he  stood  in  the 
early  maturity  of  his  powers,  aflame  with  Christian  love  and 
patriotism,  preaching  the  Gospel  of  the  Son  of  God,  the  Deliverer 


254  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

and  Saviour  for  slave  and  master,  for  North  and  South,  for  com- 
merce and  manufactures,  for  our  whole  land  from  shame  and 
thraldom. 

The  need  of  such  a  voice  will  appear  if  we  consider  the  state 
of  things  at  this  time,  as  he  himself  described  it  : 

"  '  An  Abolitionist '  was  enough  to  put  the  mark  of  Cain  upon 
any  young  man  that  arose  in  my  early  day,  and  until  I  was  forty 
years  of  age  it  was  punishable  to  preach  on  the  subject  of  liberty. 
It  was  enough  to  expel  a  man  from  church  communion  if  he  in- 
sisted on  praying  in  the  prayer-meeting  for  the  liberation  of  the 
slaves.  I  am  speaking  the  words  of  truth  and  soberness.  The 
Church  was  dumb  in  the  North,  but  not  in  the  West.  A  marked 
distinction  exists  between  the  history  of  the  New  School  of  Pres- 
byterian churches  in  the  West  and  the  Congregational  churches, 
the  Episcopal  churches,  the  Methodist  and  Baptist  churches  in 
the  North  and  East.  The  great  publishing  societies  that  were 
sustained  by  the  contributions  of  the  churches  were  absolutely 
dumb.  Great  controversies  raged  round  about  the  doors  of  the 
Bible  Society,  of  the  Tract  Society,  and  of  the  American  Board 
of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions.  The  managers  of  these 
societies  resorted  to  every  shift  except  that  of  sending  the  Gospel 
to  the  slaves.  They  would  not  send  the  Bible  to  the  South  ;  for, 
they  said,  'it  is  a  punishable  offence  in  most  of  the  Southern 
States  to  teach  a  slave  to  read  ;  and  are  we  to  go  in  the  face  of 
this  State  legislation  and  send  the  Bible  South  ? '  The  Tract 
Society  said  :  '  We  are  set  up  to  preach  the  Gospel,  not  to  meddle 
with  political  and  industrial  institutions.'  And  so  they  went  on 
printing  tracts  against  tobacco  and  its  uses,  tracts  against  dancing 
and  its  abuses,  and  refusing  to  print  a  tract  that  had  a  shadow  of 
criticism  on  slavery  ! 

"  One  of  the  most  disgraceful  things  took  place  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  Bishop  Doane,  of  New  Jersey — I  take  it  for  grant- 
ed, without  his  knowledge.  I  have  the  book.  It  was  an  edition 
of  the  Episcopal  prayer-book.  They  had  put  into  the  front  of  it 
a  steel  engraving  of  Ary  Scheffer's  '  Christus  Consolator  ' — Christ 
the  Consoler.  There  was  a  semi-circle  around  about  the  benefi- 
cent and  aerial  figure  of  our  Saviour — the  poor,  the  old,  the  sick, 
the  mother  with  her  dead  babe,  bowed  in  grief  ;  every  known 
form  of  human  sorrow  belonged  to  the  original  design  and  pic- 
ture, and  among  others  a  fettered  slave,  with  his  hands  lifted  to 


A"  E I '.  HENR  V  W A  RD  BEECH ER.  255 

heaven,  praying  for  liberty.  But  this  was  too  mueh  ;  and  so  they 
CUt  out  the  slave,  and  left  the  rest  of  the  picture,  and  bound  it 
into  the  Episcopal  prayer-book  of  New  Jersey.  I  have  a  copy 
of  it,  which  I  mean  to  leave  to  the  Historical  Society  of  Brooklyn 
when  1  am  done  using  it. 

"  These  things  are  important  as  showing  the  incredible  con- 
dition of  public  sentiment  at  that  time.  If  a  man  came  to  be 
known  as  an  anti-slavery  man  it  almost  preluded  bankruptcy 
in  business." 

After  the  intense  excitement,  within  and  without  Congress, 
upon  the  discussion  and  the  passage  of  the  Compromise  measures 
of  1850,  a  reaction  followed,  and  the  year  1851  is,  in  many  re- 
spects, a  marked  contrast  to  that  immediately  preceding.  The 
people,  in  the  main,  tired  of  the  discussion  and  the  consequent 
turmoil,  thankful  for  their  escape,  as  they  thought,  from  the 
threatened  danger  of  the  dissolution  of  the  Union,  were  deter- 
mined to  preserve  the  peace  that  had  been  won,  and  frowned 
upon  everything  that  endangered  its  continuance.  Public  meet- 
ings and  conventions,  held  for  the  expression  of  free-State  senti- 
ments, were  regarded  with  great  disfavor  and  often  broken  up  by 
mob  violence. 

Four  millions  of  people  in  a  Christian  land  were  denied  eveTy 
right  belonging  to  them,  not  only  on  the  ground  of  Christianity 
but  of  humanity,  and  yet  they  must  be  dumb.  The  pulpit,  which 
represented  Him  who  came  to  set  the  captive  free  and  preach  the 
Gospel  to  the  poor,  on  this  great  matter  must  utter  no  voice. 
Statesmanship  must  see  consummated  an  utter  perversion  of  the 
fundamental  principles  and  policy  of  the  nation,  and  yet  offer  no 
protest.  A  common  humanity,  outraged  by  the  atrocities  com- 
mitted against  a  fellow  human  being,  must  be  silent  or  join  in  the 
hue  and  cry  for  the  capture  of  the  unhappy  victim. 

This  was  the  programme  that  conservatism,  through  the  press, 
in  the  pulpit,  by  the  ballot-box,  through  business  patronage,  so- 
cial frowns  or  favors,  and  not  unfrequently  through  mob  violence, 
attempted  to  execute.  It  was  as  vain  as  to  try  to  still  the  voice 
of  Niagara  or  the  noise  of  the  breakers  upon  the  coast. 

One  thing  more  powerful  than  any  other  contributed  to  pre- 
vent a  complete  reaction  and  consequent  stagnation  upon  this 
subject — the  activity  of  the  South  in  availing  itself  of  the  advan- 
tages offered  by  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill  for  obtaining  possession 


256  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

of  the  property  that  had  escaped  and  was  living  on  Northern 
soil.  The  year  185 1  was  emphatically  a  year  of  slave- hunting. 
And  since  these  refugees  from  labor  had,  many  of  them,  lived  for 
years  at  the  North,  had  become  respectable  citizens  and  reared 
families,  their  violent  capture  invariably  occasioned,  if  not  force- 
ful resistance,  at  least  deep  and  bitter  indignation. 

The  quiet  of  1851  was  not  perfect  and  it  could  not  be  made 
permanent.  It  was  only  the  lull  which  weariness  compels  in 
every  hard-fought  battle. 

In  December  of  this  year  Kossuth  visited  this  country  at  the 
invitation  of  the  Senate,  coming  in  a  government  steamer  sent  to 
Asia  especially  for  his  conveyance.  Many  things  contributed  to 
awaken  immense  enthusiasm  for  him.  He  had  represented  Hun- 
gary in  the  Austrian  Diet  ;  had  championed  the  liberty  of  free 
press  and  free  speech  so  fearlessly  as  to  gain  the  honor  of  an  Aus- 
trian dungeon  ;  had  been  elected  governor  of  Hungary,  and  for 
two  years  had  waged  successful  war  with  Austria.  Overcome  by 
the  immense  military  power  of  that  great  empire  in  alliance  with 
Russia,  he  had  been  forced  into  exile  with  a  price  set  upon  his 
head.  He  represented,  in  that  year  of  European  revolutions,  the 
struggles  of  the  common  people  for  liberty.  These  experiences, 
united  with  his  personal  appearance  and  marvellous  eloquence, 
combined  to  secure  for  him  a  most  enthusiastic  reception  by 
the  people  of  this  country.  The  Senate,  on  the  other  hand,  were 
far  more  chary  of  their  welcome.  The  Hungarian  exile  stood 
for  universal  liberty,  and  that  was  just  what  at  that  time  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States  were  most  interested  in  suppress- 
ing. However,  though  granted  no  reception,  a  banquet  was 
given  in  his  honor,  at  which  most  of  our  public  men  were  pre- 
sent, and  Daniel  Webster,  Secretary  of  State,  delivered  the  prin- 
cipal address. 

Quick  to  perceive  the  dilemma  in  which  Congress  found 
itself,  and  eager  that  the  nation  at  large  should  appreciate  it,  Mr. 
Beecher  writes  a  Star  Paper  in  which,  in  his  usual  happy  and 
effective  style,  he  describes  the  incongruity  in  the  action  of  our 
government  in  welcoming  this  fugitive  from  the  oppression  of 
the  Old  World  while  we  are  engaged  in  remanding  to  their  op- 
pressors fugitives  in  the  New. 

Invited  by  Mr.  Beecher,  Kossuth  delivered  an  address  in 
Plymouth  Church  in  behalf  of  the  cause  of  Hungarian  liberty. 


RE  I '.   //EX  A  V    WAKD  BEEt  1//:R.  25  J 

jc.it  was  the  eagerness  oi  the  people  to  hear  him  that  some 

ten  thousand  dollars  were  realized  from  the  sale  of  tickets. 

So  did  the  pastor  of  tins  1  hurch  link  himself  with  the  cause 
of  freedom  all  over  the  earth. 

Fi£ty-tWOf  being  "  election  year,"  saw  efforts  more  persistent, 
if  possible,  than  ever  before  to  regard  the  Compromise  measures 
as  a  finality  and  discourage  all  agitation  of  the  subject  of  slavery. 
A  public  pledge  was  signed  by  more  than  fifty  senators,  among 
them  the  most  influential  from  both  the  great  parties,  including 
Henry  Clay,  agreeing  that  they  would  thereafter  support  no  can- 
didate who  did  not  approve  and  promise  to  abide  by  the  provi- 
sions of  that  compact.  Both  the  great  parties  of  the  day — the 
Whig  and  Democratic — put  into  their  platforms  resolutions  de- 
claring that  the  above  Compromise  was  accepted  as  a  final 
settlement  of  the  questions  at  issue,  and  agreed  to  resist  all 
attempts  at  renewing  the  agitation  of  the  slavery  question 
under  any  pretext  whatsoever.  In  the  election  Franklin  Pierce, 
who  had  but  two  qualifications  for  the  office  of  chief  magistrate 
— he  was  a  gentleman  and  a  radical  pro-slavery  man — was  chosen 
by  an  overwhelming  majority  for  President,  for  the  reason  that 
his  party  affiliations  gave  the  best  assurance  that  the  pledges 
which  all  had  alike  made  would  in  his  case  be  fulfilled. 

General  Scott  and  the  Whig  party  made  just  as  profound  an 
obeisance  to  the  slave-power,  and  offered  just  as  heavy  a  bid 
for  its  favors  ;  but  there  was  not  the  same  confidence  in  their 
ability  to  perform  the  service  demanded  as  in  that  of  their 
Democratic  rivals,  and  they  were  in  consequence  disastrously 
defeated.  So  did  the  popular  vote  upon  its  first  opportunity 
endorse  the  action  of  Congress  and  declare  that  discussion  on 
this  great  matter  was  closed.  Yet,  in  spite  of  the  verdict  of  the 
ballot-box,  in  spite  of  resolutions,  compacts,  and  threats,  agita- 
tion still  went  on.     Mr.  Beecher  explains  the  phenomenon  : 

"  Politicians  inquire  whence  is  the  tenacity  of  life  of  the 
anti-slavery  movement.  It  is  not  fanaticism  that  animates  or 
controls  it,  it  is  the  religious  principle  that  is  the  secret  of  the 
strength  of  this  cause  ;  it  is  because  Jesus  Christ  is  alive,  and 
there  are  Jesus  Christ  men  who  count  this  cause  dearer  than  their 
lives." 

In  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1852  Mr.  Beecher  was  engaged 
in  what  was  called  "  The  Parker  Controversy." 


258  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

We  have  no  desire  to  open  anew  the  bitterness  of  those  old 
matters  which  have  passed  so  long  ago  into  history,  and  almost 
into  forgetfulness,  but  no  biography  of  the  man  would  be  complete 
without  a  reference  to  this  trial,  the  severest  which  he  had  thus 
far  endured,  and  which  prepared  him  for  other  and  greater  ones 
to  come.  In  our  study  of  the  character  and  disposition  of 
Henry  Ward  Beecher  we  find  him,  as  we  believe,  to  have  been 
pre-eminently  a  man  of  peace.  In  his  history  we  see  him  almosi 
continuously  engaged  in  war.  This  anomaly  is  easily  explained. 
It  was  not  from  desire  or  "disposition,  but  a  necessary  conse- 
quence of  the  progress  which  he  was  making  and  the  position 
which  he  occupied.  The  age  was  moving  forward  :  wrongs  must 
be  overcome,  new  positions  of  advantage  must  be  gained.  By 
the  habit  of  his  mind,  the  intuitions  of  his  genius,  and  the 
earnestness  and  simplicity  of  his  purpose  he  found  himself  a 
leader  in  this  progress. 

While  others  stopped  to  discover  the  truth  by  laborious  study 
in  their  libraries,  he  found  it  among  the  results  of  former  re- 
searches, derived  it  intuitively  from  well-admitted  principles,  or 
gathered  it  from  the  people  with  whom  he  associated  by  the  way. 
While  others  were  carefully  weighing  the  consequences  of  their 
actions,  he,  trusting  in  God,  in  the  righteousness  of  his  cause, 
in  the  forces  of  nature  and  in  himself,  stepped  forward  to  the 
front.  While  others  were  laboriously  forging  their  speeches  his 
sprang  like  the  fabled  Minerva  from  the  brain  of  Jupiter,  alive, 
armed,  and  beautiful.  He  came  into  battle  for  the  same  reason 
that  the  head  of  a  column  advancing  to  seize  a  favorable  position 
within  the  enemy's  lines  is  early  brought  under  fire,  or  that  a 
heavy  field-battery,  which  is  sending  its  shot  with  deadly  effect 
into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy,  is  attacked. 

In  his  discussion  with  a  New  York  daily,  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken,  he  had  come  in  conflict  with  the  commercial 
spirit  of  the  day  which  held  its  principles  and  its  goods  both  for 
sale,  and  against  it  had  defended  the  right  of  the  pulpit  to  dis- 
cuss the  live  topics  of  the  hour.  This  had  drawn  fire.  Men  who 
had  been  scored  as  he  scored  them  in  a  Star  Paper  of  January 
24,  1S50,  entitled  "A  Man  in  the  Market" —  ".  .  .  They  hang 
themselves  up  in  the  shambles  of  every  Southern  market  ;  they 
trust  the  pliant  good  nature  of  the  North,  and  are  only  fearful 
lest  they  should  fail  to  be  mean  enough  to  please  the  South" — and 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECf/ER.  259 

who  deserved  the  scoring,  would  not  be  likely  to  forget  it  booh  or 
forgive  it  readily.     The  conflict  in  winch  he  now  became  engaged 

was  more  painful  khan  the  former,  tor  it  was  waged  with  Chris- 
tian brethren.  Beginning  as  a  skirmish,  it  became  a  general  bat- 
tle, in  which  the  conservatism  of  the  Church,  which  had  expur- 
gated its  religious  tracts,  curbed  the  religious  press,  and  toned 
down  the  utterances  of  the  pulpit,  so  as  not  to  hurt  the  feelings 
of  slave-holders,  was  engaged  and  brought  to  judgment. 

It  came  about  in  this  way  :  In  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  Mrs. 
Stowe  had  described  the  sale  of  a  child  taken  from  the  arms  of 
the  mother,  and  of  Tom's  feeling  on  the  subject.  "  To  him  it 
looked  like  something  unutterably  horrible  and  cruel,  because, 
poor,  ignorant  black  soul  !  he  had  not  learned  to  generalize  and 
take  in  large  views.  If  he  had  only  been  instructed  by  cer- 
tain ministers  of  Christianity  he  might  have  thought  better  of 
it,  and  seen  in  it  an  every-day  incident  of  a  lawful  trade — 
a  trade  which  is  the  vital  support  of  an  institution  which  some 
American  divines  tell  us  has  no  evils  but  such  as  are  insepa- 
rable from  any  other  relations  in  social  and  domestic  life." 

In  a  note  she  refers  to  Dr.  Joel  Parker  by  name  as  the  man 
who  had  given  utterance  to  these  sentiments,  and  as  representing 
the  class  which  entertained  them.  The  words,  "  No  evils  but 
such  as  are  inseparable  from  any  other  relations  in  social  and 
domestic  life,"  had  been  printed  as  his  in  a  discussion  which  he 
had  held  in  Philadelphia,  had  gone  the  rounds  of  the  papers  as 
his  and  had  been  printed  and  commented  upon  in  England, 
and  he  had  never  denied  that  they  rightfully  belonged  to  him. 
But  the  quickened  moral  feeling  which  followed  the  publication 
of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  made  the  authorship  of  such  senti- 
ments less  pleasant  than  formerly,  and  Dr.  Parker  suddenly  dis- 
covered that  he  had  been  wronged  in  having  these  words  ascribed 
to  him,  and  threatened  Mrs.  Stowe  with  a  suit  for  libel.  A  friend 
of  his  lawyer  visited  her  brother  Henry,  and  suggested  that 
this  matter  could  be  arranged  without  a  law-suit.  With  a 
confidence  that  was  born  of  sincerity  and  inexperience,  the 
brother  attempts  that  most  difficult  role — that  of  peace-maker. 
He  visits  Dr.  Parker,  becomes  satisfied  that  his  language  is 
capable  of  a  less  violent  construction  than  had  been  put  upon 
it,  confers  with  Mrs.  Stowe  and  finds  her  ready  to  take  the 
most  favorable  view  of  the  case   possible,  bears   a    letter  from 


260  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

her  to  the  doctor,  writes  and  discusses  with  him  the  answer  which 
he  shall  make,  forwards  Mrs.  Stowe's  letter,  which  had  been 
somewhat  changed  in  the  discussion,  to  her  for  approval — 
which  being  gained,  he  publishes  both  letters  over  the  united 
signatures  of  the  two  parties,  and  goes  off  to  Indiana  on  a  lectur- 
ing trip,  with  the  happy  consciousness  that  he  has  done  a  good 
thing.  Never  was  a  man  waked  from  a  sweeter  dream  to  a 
more  bitter  disappointment.  Instead  of  making  peace  between 
them,  he  found,  as  a  result  of  his  labors,  their  differences 
increased  and  embittered,  and  himself  charged  with  forgery  both 
of  letter  and  signature.  Offended  professional  pride,  newspa- 
per rivalry,  the  hatred  of  men  who  had  been  lashed  by  his  tongue 
and  pen,  the  fears  of  conservatives  and  the  bitter  hatred  of 
pro-slavery  men,  suddenly  united  their  forces  for  his  destruc- 
tion. This  young  radical  had  left  himself  open  to  attack,  and 
they  all  rushed  to  the  onset  or  stood  back  and  cheered  others 
on,  and  were  already  beginning  to  rejoice  in  his  downfall.  The 
lead  in  the  attack  soon  passed  out  of  the  doctor's  hands  into 
those  of  more  able  and  less  scrupulous  men,  and  aimed  at  no- 
thing less  than  his  annihilation.  "  The  arrow  was  well  shot,"  he 
said  ;  "  had  I  been  unshielded  it  would  have  done  its  work,  for 
the  point  was  poisoned."  But  he  was  not  unshielded  !  the  over- 
throw was  not  accomplished,  and  he  stood,  at  the  end,  fully  vindi- 
cated from  all   the  aspersions  of  his  enemies. 

In  a  long,  carefully  written  article  over  his  own  name  he  gives 
the  whole  beginning,  continuance,  and  end  of  this  unhappy  mat- 
ter : 

"  For  myself  I  profess  that  no  event  of  my  life,  not  the  loss  of 
my  own  children  nor  bereavements  of  friends  most  dear,  have 
ever  filled  me  with  so  deep  a  sorrow  as  that  which  I  have  in  be- 
ing made  a  party  to  a  public  dispute  when  three  of  the  parties 
concerned  are  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  and  when  the  fourth  is  a 
woman  and  the  wife  of  a  clergyman.  At  the  very  best  it  is  a 
shame  and  a  disgrace.  To  avert  it  I  labored  most  honestly  and 
with  all  my  might." 

He  closes  with  these  words  : 

14 1  commit  this  narrative  to  the  sober  judgment  of  all  good 
men,  and  myself  I  commit  to  the  charge  of  Almighty  God." 

"Henry  Ward  Beecher." 


RE  I  \  IIKXK  V   11  A  RD  BEECH  ER.  2  6  I 

Two  Letters  selected  from  Ihe  voluminous  correspondence  of 
that  time,  one  to  a  friend  who  approved,  and  the  Other  to  one 
who  condemned,  his  course,  arc  given,  that  the  spirit  which  he 
cherished  may  be  more  thoroughly  understood  : 

4k  Brooklyn,  Oct.  12,  1852. 
"  Barnabas  Bates,  Esq.  : 

"  Dear  Sir  :  Your  kind  letter  gave  me  much  pleasure,  not  as 
adding  anything  to  that  quiet  which  belongs  to  a  conscience  void 
of  offence,  but  as  showing  that  I  have  been  able  to  manifest  to 
others  that  which  was  undoubted  truth  to  me.  It  is  very  pain- 
ful to  be  placed  before  the  public  as  I  have  been,  even  when  the 
verdict  is  ultimately  favorable  ;  for  there  is  something  repugnant 
to  one's  feelings  even  to  feel  it  possible  that  a  suspicion  of  his 
honor  could  be  for  a  moment  entertained. 

But  I  am  sure  that  I  should  be  the  most  ungrateful  of  men 
if  I  failed  to  recognize  the  presence  and  abundant  blessing  of  my 
God  in  all  the  passages  of  this  painful  experience. 

"  Not  a  promise  made  to  me  has  been  left  unfulfilled,  and  I 
know  that  it  has  been  a  better  sermon  to  me  than  was  ever 
preached  by  human  lips. 

"  Toward  the  parties  of  this  wrong  much  must  be  allowed  to 
wounded  vanity,  much  to  partisanship,  something  perhaps  to  for- 
getfulness.  After  all  this,  however,  the  rest  will  be  a  burden  to 
their  conscience  whenever  they  shall  hereafter  look  back  upon  it. 
And  while  I  do  most  heartily  forgive  them,  and  could  with  ear- 
nest good-will  do  either  of  them  a  kindness,  I  cannot  refrain  from 
thanksgiving  that  I  was  the  accused,  not  the  accuser.  Your  kind- 
ness I  have  felt  the  more  because  personally  (although  not 
otherwise)  a  stranger  to  me,  and  because,  coming  among  the  first 
letters  of  sympathy,  it  has  been  the  harbinger  of  great  kindnesses, 
similar  in  kind,  from  many. 

"  I  am,  with  sincere  esteem, 

"  Gratefully  yours, 

"  H.  W.  Beecher." 

"Brooklyn,  Oct.  12,  1852. 
u  Richard  Hale,  Esq.: 

"  Dear  Sir  :  I  was  for  a  moment  pained  by  the  reading  of 
your  note  this  morning,  and  but  for  a  moment  ;  for  it  has  pleased 


262  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

God  to  grant  Himself  to  me  in  such  measure  that  neither  the 
wrath  of  enemies,  nor  the  strife  of  tongues,  nor  the  unadvised 
blows  of  friends  have  power  to  do  me  harm  or  unsettle  my  peace. 
Had  I  ever  doubted  the  promises  of  God  I  should  now  find  every 
shadow  swept  away  ;  and  I  surely  count  the  little  annoyance 
which  this  perversion  of  honor  and  truth  in  these  unprincipled 
men  has  caused  me  not  worthy  to  be  mentioned  in  the  joy  which 
I  have  had  in  being  folded  into  the  very  bosom  of  my  Saviour. 

"  All  that  I  can  ask  in  your  behalf  is  that  when  the  day  of 
trouble  shall  come  to  you  (with  as  little  fault  on  your  part  as  this 
on  mine)  God  may  sustain  you  by  that  certainty  of  integrity  and 
that  consciousness  of  honor  which  have  given  me  unspeakable 
comfort,  and  would  were  I  this  day  standing  before  God's  judg- 
ment-seat. 

"  I  do  not  blame  you  ;  I  believe  that  you  meant  me  no  un- 
kindness  ;  but  it  is  manifest  that  with  your  present  views  it  would 
be  as  painful  for  you  to  associate  with  me  as  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  me  to  permit  it. 

"  Whenever  the  evil  impressions  which  have  tempted  you  into 
misjudgments  shall  have  passed  away  (and  they  assuredly  will), 
and  when  my  righteousness  shall  shine  forth  as  the  light  (and  God 
will  bring  it  forth),  then  you  will  find  me  unchanged  in  my  affec- 
tions for  you  ;  nor  shall  I  then  remember  anything  but  that  you 
were  once  my  friend. 

"  I  am,  with  God's  unwavering  support,  and  with  the  patience 
and  peace  which  Christ  only  can  give, 

"  Truly  your  brother, 

"  Henry  Ward  Beecher." 

Also  we  give  extracts  from  a  third  : 

"Brooklyn,  October  12,  1852. 
*  R.  W.  Landis  : 

"  Dear  Sir  :  Your  welcome  letter  I  received  this  morning.  It 
gave  me  great  pleasure,  though  I  did  not  need  it  for  my  happi- 
ness. For  it  has  pleased  God  so  graciously  to  stajid  by  me  in 
this  fiercest  attack  of  my  life  that  if  every  friend  in  the  world 
had  abandoned  me  I  should  not  have  been  alone.  I  need  not 
tell  you,  who  have  both  known  and  taught  to  others,  that  Christ 
has  a  peace  which,   surpassing  all  other  experience   of  earthly 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  263 

joy,  requires  for  its  possession  an  unusual  earthly  trial.     In  that 

peace  1  have  rested  as  in  God's  pavilion.   .   .   . 

"I  never  expected  to  stand  up  in  the  publicity  which  God 
has  been  pleased  to  draw  me  into,  and  faithfully  to  declare  His 
truth  against  the  interests  of  commercial  and  political  circles, 
and  not  be  visited  with  this  wrath. 

11  But  they  shall  neither  destroy  me  nor  daunt  me  nor  silence 
me,  for  my  God  is  greater  than  their  devil.  I  will  work  yet  hard- 
er and  speak  more  plainly  for  every  blow  they  deal.  May  God 
repay  your  kindness  to  me  a  thousand-fold  ! 

"  H.  W.  Beecher." 

We  find  no  word  from  Mr.  Beecher  concerning  the  election 
of  this  year,  but  an  article  immediately  following  shows  that  he 
kept  his  eye  upon  the  main  issue,  and  that  none  of  its  humorous 
any  more  than  its  sorrowful  features  escaped  him.  It  was  enti- 
tled "  Degraded  into  Liberty"  : 

"  A  Southern  gentleman  en  route  for  Texas  brought  to  New 
York  eight  slaves,  to  be  shipped  hence  by  one  of  our  ocean- 
going steamers.  The  birds  of  the  air  informed  the  Abolitionists 
of  the  facts,  and  it  was  not  long  before  a  writ  was  served  upon 
the  whole  chattel-gang,  and  they  were  hauled  up  before  Judge 
Paine  to  show  cause  why  they  should  not  be  doomed  to  free- 
dom. The  cruel  inhospitality  of  New  York  was  never  more 
manifest.  These  innocent  fellow-beings,  blessed  by  being  born 
slaves,  and  not  painfully  educated  for  it,  as  Northern  Southerners 
are  ;  having  had  all  the  manifold  mercies  which  make  a  Virginia 
slave  so  much  better  off  than  a  free  factory-girl  in  Massachusetts  ; 
having  grown  up  in  the  indulgence  of  those  hilarious  dances  and 
in  the  practice  of  those  songs  which  make  plantation  life  perfect- 
ly paradisaical,  they  were  on  their  way  to  that  land  waving  with 
sugar-cane  and  cotton-plants,  where,  hoe  in  hand,  they  were  to 
while  away  the  brilliant  hours  with  gentle  dalliances  with  loam 
and  clay — when  lo  !  they  were  suddenly  arrested. 

*  From  these  bright  anticipations  they  have  been  ruthlessly 
snatched,  and  plunged  into  freedom  utterly  unprepared  !  Are 
there  no  tears  in  Castle  Garden  ?  Ought  not  the  Union  Com- 
mittee to  spend  something  for  a  trifle  of  crape  ?  Eight  innocent 
fellow-chattels  changed  into  izWow-beings !  No  kind  master 
have    they  now.      The    tender   relation    is   sundered.     Our    be- 


264 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


reaved  master  and  mistress  must  depart  slaveless  and  alone. 
Having  been  worked  for  so  long,  and  tended  and  taken  care 
of,  it  is  doubtful  whether  they  will  be  able  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves now.  Much  as  we  sympathize  with  them,  we  do  not  con- 
sider their  affliction  at  all  comparable  to  that  of  the  late  happy 
slaves.  These  poor  creatures  are  free,  and  we  are  assured  in  the 
highest  quarter  that  no  greater  evil  than  that  can  well  befall  the 
slave  population.  They  have  degraded  themselves.  They  have 
refused  to  be  ■  content  rather.'  In  all  the  world  they  cannot  find 
a  man  who  owns  them.  They  are  now  to  sneak  through  life, 
like  white  men,  owning  themselves  !  They  must  have  had  some 
awful  moments  of  compunction  when  the  conviction  first  flashed 
upon  them  that  they  owned  their  own  hands,  trod  upon  their 
own  feet,  put  their  clothes  upon  their  own  shoulders,  and  felt 
that  thing  throbbing  under  their  ribs  to  be  their  own  heart. 
Some  natural  feelings  must  have  shot  through  the  maternal  heart 
as  she  pressed  her  own  babe  to  her  own  breast,  and  dropped  her 
own  tears  upon  its  dusky  cheek.  .   .  . 

"  Only  one  woman  can  be  found  faithful  in  this  emergency. 
Their  former  mistress  alone  has  appealed  to  their  conscience 
and  adjured  them  to  return  to  her  !  Where  were  the  teachers, 
the  chaplains,  the  casuists,  the  lawyers,  that  a  little  time  ago 
choked  the  press  with  beatitudes  of  slavery?  *  His  watchmen 
are  blind  ;  they  are  all  ignorant  ;  they  are  all  dumb  dogs  ;  they 
cannot  bark  ;  sleeping,  lying  down,  loving  to  slumber.' 

u  In  reply  to  Mrs.  Lemmon's  appeal  the  deluded  slave-woman 
drew  herself  up,  and,  pressing  her  child  to  her  breast,  said,  '  /  had 
rather  be  free  !  '  What  !  not  value  the  radiant  mercies  of  slavery 
more  than  that  ?  The  creature  is  crazy  !  Slaves  in  their  senses 
are  always  contented.  They  are  mere  pets.  The  Uncle  Toms 
of  Virginia  do  nothing  but  look  after  the  children,  or  sit  in  sun- 
ny nooks  and  smoke  their  stubbed  pipes.  The  Aunt  Phillises 
are  always  fat,  rollicking  cooks,  bursting  with  laughter.  Nobody 
is  happy  but  slaves.  The  poor  masters  have  all  the  care  and 
burden,  slaves  all  the  glee  and  leisure.  .  .  . 

"  It  is  a  dreadful  state  of  things  here  in  New  York,  where  we 
feed  upon  Cotton,  and  have  our  very  living  in  the  smiles  and 
favor  of  the  South,  to  be  hurting  their  feelings  by  talking  so 
much  about  liberty  and  all  that.  A  few  more  slaves  set  free, 
and  the  South  will  get  angry  again  ;  and   then  New  York  will 


RE  I '.  HENR  V  IV A 1W  BEECHER.  265 

be  in  a  world  of  trouble,  and  another  call  will  call  together  an- 
other Castle  Garden  full  of  anxious  merchants,  all  full  of  love 

to  the  South;   and  we   shall    have   more   sermons  and  more  news- 
paper articles  ;  and   nobody  can    tell  what  will   happen    the   ne.\t 

time. 

"  In  part,  the  South  is  at  fault.  It  has  sent  North  the  wrong 
kind  of  negroes.  Those  who  havs  run  away,  or  been  judicially 
sentenced  to  freedom,  or  been  bought — all  these  have  loved  lib- 
erty. Now,  won't  the  South  send  us  some  of  another  sort — some 
of  those  model  slaves  that  love  bondage  and  wouldn't  take  lib- 
erty if  they  could  get  it  ?  With  a  few  specimen  copies  of  such, 
we  believe  that  we  could  do  Southern  institutions  great  good  in 
the  North.  *  " 

Fifty-three  follows  in  much  the  same  line  as  that  of  the  two 
years  immediately  preceding.  Franklin  Pierce,  who  had  been 
elected  in  November  last,  takes  the  oath  of  office  on  the  4th  of 
March.  His  inaugural  gives  expression  to  what  was  undoubtedly 
the  general  feeling  of  the  country — a  determination  that  the  Com- 
promise measures  shall  be  enforced,  and  a  fervent  trust  that  the 
question  of  slavery  has  been  settled  ;  and  in  his  annual  message, 
upon  the  assembling  of  Congress  in  that  year,  promises  that  the 
peace  which  now  so  happily  existed  through  the  land  should  not 
be  disturbed  during  his  term  of  office,  if  he  could  prevent  it. 
A  large  majority  of  the  people,  both  North  and  South,  were  un- 
doubtedly in  perfect  accord  with  this  desire,  greatly  pleased  with 
this  assurance,  and  tried  to  share  his  confidence. 

Those  were  days  in  which  a  great  deal  of  sympathy  was  felt 
in  this  country  for  the  Irish,  and  by  many,  too,  who  were  stanch 
opposers  of  liberty  for  the  negro.  Mr.  Beecher  had  no  patience 
with  men,  on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic,  whose  sympathy  was 
limited  by  the  bounds  of  race  or  color  ;  and  when  John  Mitchel, 
who  had  posed  as  the  "  Great  Irish  Patriot  "  of  that,  day,  having 
escaped  from  an  English  penal  colony  and  been  received  here 
with  great  enthusiasm,  took  occasion  to  state  in  an  editorial  in 
the  Citizen.,  "  We  deny  that  it  is  a  crime  or  a  wrong,  or  even  a 
peccadillo,  to  hold  slaves,  to  buy  slaves,  to  sell  slaves,  to  keep 
slaves  to  their  work  by  flogging  or  other  needful  coercion  ;  we 
only  wish  we  had  a  good  plantation  well  stocked  with  healthy 
negroes  in  Alabama,"  he  (Mr.  Beecher)  enters  into  public  corre- 
spondence with  him,  in  which  he  denies  the  claims  of  the  refugee 


2  66  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

to  be  an  "apostle  of  liberty,"  sorrows  over  his  downfall,  and 
dismisses  him  to  the  test  of  history  in  these  words  : 

"  Once  you  stood  like  some  great  oak  whose  wide  circumfer- 
ence was  lifted  up  above  all  the  pastures,  the  glory  of  all  behold- 
ers, and  a  covert  for  a  thousand  timid  singing-birds  !  Now  you  lie 
at  full  length  along  the  ground,  with  mighty  ruptured  roots  ragged 
and  upturned  to  heaven,  with  broken  boughs  and  despoiled 
leaves  !  Never  again  shall  husbandman  predict  spring  from  your 
swelling  buds!  Never  again  shall  God's  singing-birds  of  liberty 
come  down  through  all  the  heavenly  air  to  rest  themselves  on 
your  waving  top  !  Fallen  !  Uprooted  !  Doomed  to  the  axe  and 
the  hearth  ! 

"  But  there  is  a  future  beyond  this,  even  on  earth  !  There  is 
a  time  promised,  and  already  dawning,  in  which  the  human 
family  shall  be  one  great  brotherhood,  and  Love  shall  be  the  law 
of  man  !  In  that  golden  age  there  shall  be  research  made  for  all 
the  names  that,  since  the  world  began,  have  wrought  and  suf- 
fered for  the  good  of  their  kind.  There  will  be  a  memorable 
resurrection  of  forgotten  names.  From  the  obscurity  into  which 
despotism  has  flung  all  who  dared  to  defy  it,  from  the  shades 
and  darkness  of  oblivion  by  which  oppressors  would  cover  down 
the  memory  of  all  who  proclaimed  human  right  and  human 
liberty,  they  will  come  forth  shining  like  the  sun,  and  none  be 
forgotten  that  labored  to  bring  to  pass  the  world's  freedom  !  In 
that  day,  when  ten  thousand  names  shall  be  heard,  in  all  their 
number  not  one  shall  utter  that  gone  and  forgotten  name — John 
Mitch  el  !  " 

We  do  not  wish  it  to  be  inferred  from  our  words  that  Mr. 
Beecher  was  the  only  anti-slavery  leader  who  was  doing  good 
service  in  those  days.  There  were  many  others,  and  some,  per- 
haps, were  doing  as  effective  work  in  a  single  line  as  he.  But 
we  believe  that,  when  the  whole  sphere  of  his  activity  was  con- 
sidered, he  went  far  beyond  any  man  of  his  time. 

In  anyone  of  the  three  channels  of  largest  influence,  of  that  or 
of  any  time — the  pulpit,  the  press,  and  the  platform — he  was  the 
peer,  if  not  the  superior,  of  any  leader  ;  and  while  the  most  of 
his  co-laborers  used  but  one,  or  at  the  most  two,  of  these  instru- 
mentalities, he  was  constantly  employing  the  three,  and  each  with 
unequalled  efficiency. 

His  beliefs,  as  his  labors,  were  broader  than  the  most   who 


REV.  HEXRY  HARD  BEBCHER.  267 

were  at  that  day  prominently  identified  with  the  anti-slavery 
cause.  He  believed  m  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
and  claimed  that,  if  the  government  should  be  administered 
according  to  the  original    intent   of   this   document,  slavery   must 

v.ily  cease.  In  this  he  differed  from  Garrison  and  his  school, 
who  held  that  "the  (Federal)  Constitution  is  a  covenant  with 
death  and  an  agreement  with  hell."  He  believed  in  the  ballot- 
box,  and  in  using  its  power  to  the  utmost.  In  this  he  differed 
from  Wendell  Phillips  and  others  of  his  school,  who  had  dis- 
franchised themselves  for  years,  lest  by  voting  they  should  seem 
to  countenance  an  institution  that  was  being  used  for  the  per- 
petuity of  so  great  an  injustice.  He  believed  in  the  Church 
and  the  moral  forces  which  she  could  bring  to  the  work.  He 
believed  in  love  rather  than  hate,  and  most  of  all,  with  a  tri- 
umphant, joyful  faith,  he  believed  in  the  person,  presence,  and 
leadership  of  the  Redeemer  and  Reformer  of  the  world.  In  all 
this  he  separated  from  the  great  body,  individuals  here  and  there 
excepted,  of  the  Garrison  and   Pillsbury  school  of  Abolitionists. 

His  judgment  of  the  spirit  of  the  leaders  in  this  great  move- 
ment may  be  inferred  from  the  following  extracts  : 

"  Events  made  Garrison  a  leader.  We  never  thought,  and 
we  do  not  now  think,  that  Garrison  deserved  the  one-half  of  the 
bitter  reproaches  that  have  been  heaped  upon  him.  His  worst 
faults  have  been  the  reaction,  in  him,  of  the  opposite  faults  of 
men  favoring  slavery  or  indifferent  to  it.  But  we  regard  him  as 
one  of  the  most  unfortunate  of  all  leaders  for  the  best  develop- 
ment of  anti-slavery  feeling.  He  is  a  man  of  no  mean  ability, 
of  indefatigable  industry,  of  the  most  unbounded  enterprise  and 
eagerness,  of  perseverance  which  pushes  him  like  a  law  of  na- 
ture, and  of  courage  which  amounts  to  recklessness.  These  are 
the  qualifications  which  make  a  man  powerful  for  stimulation. 
Had  he  possessed,  as  a  balance  to  these,  conciliation,  good-na- 
tured benevolence,  or  even  a  certain  popular  mirthfulness  ;  had 
he  possessed  the  moderation  and  urbanity  of  Clarkson,  or  the 
deep  piety  of  Wilberforce,  he  had  been  the  one  man  of  our  age. 
These  all  he  lacked.  Had  the  disease  of  America  needed  only 
counter-irritation,  no  better  blister  could  have  been  applied. 

"  Garrison  did  not  create  the  anti-slavery  spirit  of  the  North. 
He  was  the  offspring  of  it.  It  existed  before  he  was  born.  But 
he  at  one  time  more  powerfully  developed  and  organized  it  than 


268  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

any  other  one  mind  ;  and  developed  it  in  modes  and  spirit,  as 
we  think,  most  unfortunate.  Anti-slavery  under  his  influence 
was  all  teeth  and  claw.  It  fought.  It  never  conciliated.  It 
gained  not  one  step  by  kindness.  It  won  not  a  single  fort  by 
surrender.  It  bombarded  everything  it  met,  and  stormed  every 
place  which  it  won.  We  do  not  deny  that  Garrison  and  his  early 
followers,  did  a  great  work.  Another  generation  will  divide 
praise  and  blame,  as  no  one  is  fitted  to  do  in  the  heats  of  the 
present  day.  But  when  bare  justice  shall  be  done  we  believe 
that  it  will  be  found  that  a  noble  soul,  deeply  and  truly  benevo- 
lent, who  sought  the  truest  interests  of  his  age,  yet  sought  them 
with  such  a  fierceness  and  such  a  hard  and  relentless  courage  as 
constantly  roused  up  in  his  path  the  worst  feelings  of  man,  and 
heaped  obstacles  before  him  to  such  a  degree  that  at  length,  in 
combating  them,  his  sympathies  for  good  seemed  swallowed  up 
in  a  bitter  hatred  of  evil.  The  result  of  the  agitation,  inspired 
largely  with  this  feeling,  was  that  almost  every  interest  in  the 
nation  rose  up  against  the  movement  with  which  he  was  identi- 
fied. Churches  dreaded  abolitionism,  parties  hated  abolitionism, 
commerce  abhorred  abolitionism.  Mobs  rioted  around  the  meet- 
ings, and  threatened  the  dwellings,  the  stores,  and  the  very  per- 
sons of  Abolitionists. 

"  There  was  odium  and  influence  enough  arrayed  against  the 
anti-slavery  movement,  under  the  form  of  early  abolitionism,  to 
have  sunk  ten  enterprises  which  depended  on  men  for  existence. 
But  there  was  a  spirit  in  this  cause,  there  was  a  secret  strength, 
which  nerved  it,  and  it  lived  right  on,  and  grew,  and  trampled 
down  opposition,  and  came  forth  victorious !  There  was  an 
irresistibility  in  it  which  made  it  superior  to  the  faults  of  its 
friends  and  the  deadly  hatred  of  its  enemies." 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  above  how  thoroughly  he  differed 
from  what  may  be  called  the  right  wing  of  the  Abolition  party. 

This  difference  is  emphasized  and  the  spirit  which  impelled 
him  is  indicated  in  an  address  which  he  delivered  before  the  an- 
nual meeting  of  the  Anti-Slavery  Society,  and  in  a  letter  which 
he  wrote  to  the  New  York  Tribune  in  answer  to  a  criticism  that 
appeared  in  that  paper  : 

"  I  believe  there  is  to  be  found  Christianity  enough  in  the 
world,  in  the  Church  and  out  of  it,  in  the  Bible  and  out  of  it,  i.e., 
in   the    record    and  in  the  living  heart,  and,  I  had  almost  said, 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  269 

breathed  through  the  very  air,  as  a  Divine  Providence,  inspiring 
the  great  organic  laws  of  society,  controlling  the  moral  sense  of 

the  Church,  yea,  beating  in  the  veins  of  political  economy,  subtly 

guiding  the  common  generosities  of  men  into  a  public  sentiment 
which,  in  God's  own  time,  in  spite  oi  recreant  clergymen,  apos- 
tate statesmen,  venal  politicians,  and  trafficking  shopmen,  shall 
tall  upon  this  vast  and  unmitigated  abomination  and  utterly  crush 
it.  But  my  earnest  desire  is  that  slavery  may  be  destroyed  by 
the  manifest  power  of  Christianity.  If  it  were  given  me  to  choose 
whether  it  should  be  destroyed  in  fifty  years  by  selfish  commer- 
cial influences,  or,  standing  for  seventy-five  years,  be  then  the 
spirit  and  trophy  of  Christ,  I  had  rather  let  it  linger  twenty-five 
years  more,  that  God  may  be  honored,  and  not  mammon,  in  the 
destruction  of  it.  So  do  I  hate  it  that  I  should  rejoice  in  its  ex- 
tinction, even  did  the  devil  tread  it  out,  as  he  first  kindled  it ; 
but  how  much  rather  would  I  see  God  Almighty  come  down  to 
shake  the  earth  with  His  tread,  to  tread  all  tyrannies  and  oppres- 
sions small  as  the  dust  of  the  highway,  and  to  take  unto  Himself 
the  glory  !  " 

This  having  been  severely  criticised,  especially  his  willingness 
to  have  slavery  linger,  if  by  so  doing  its  destruction  could  be- 
come a  trophy  to  the  prevailing  power  of  Christ,  he  replies  in  a 
letter  addressed  to  the  same  journal : 

"  Our  highest  and  strongest  reason  for  seeking  justice  among 
men  is  not  the  benefit  to  men  themselves,  exceedingly  strong  as 
that  motive  is  and  ought  to  be.  We  do  not  join  the  movement 
party  of  our  times  simply  because  we  are  inspired  by  an  inward 
and  constitutional  benevolence.  We  are  conscious  of  both  these 
motives  and  of  many  other  collateral  ones  ;  but  we  are  earnestly 
conscious  of  another  feeling  stronger  than  either,  that  lives  unim- 
paired when  these  faint,  yea,  that  gives  vigor  and  persistence  to 
these  feelings  when  they  are  discouraged  ;  and  that  is  a  strong  per- 
sonal, enthusiastic  love  for  Christ  Jesus.  I  regard  the  movement 
of  the  world  toward  justice  and  rectitude  to  be  of  His  inspira- 
tions. I  believe  my  own  aspirations,  having  a  base  in  my  natural 
faculties,  to  be  influenced  and  directed  by  Christ's  Spirit.  The 
mingled  affection  and  adoration  which  I  feel  for  Him  is  the 
strongest  feeling  that  I  know.  Whether  I  will  or  not,  whether  it 
be  a  phantasy  or  a  sober  sentiment,  the  fact  is  the  same  neverthe- 
less, that  that  which  will  give  pleasure  to  Christ's  heart  and  bring 


2  JO  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

to  my  consciousness  a  smile  of  gladness  on  His  face  in  behalf  of 
my  endeavor,  is  incalculably  more  to  me  than  any  other  motive. 
I  would  work  for  the  slave  for  his  own  sake,  but  I  am  sure  that 
I  would  work  ten  times  as  earnestly  for  the  slave  for  Christ's 
sake. 

"  I  am  not  ashamed  to  own  that  I  bear  about  with  me  an 
ineffaceable  consciousness  that  I  am  what  I  am  from  Christ's  in- 
fluence upon  me.  I  accept  the  power  to  do  good  as  His  inspira- 
tion. Life  is  sacred  to  me  only  by  my  belief  that  I  am  walking 
in  the  scenes  of  a  personal  Divine  Providence.  When  I  drop 
from  these  beliefs  life  becomes  void,  the  events  of  human  society 
mere  bubbles,  and  strifes  of  hope  and  fear,  of  good  and  bad,  are 
useless  as  the  turmoil  of  the  rapids  above  Niagara.  Nay,  there 
is  more  than  this  :  there  is  a  heart-swell  which  no  words  can  ex- 
press ;  there  is  a  sense  of  the  sweet  freedom  of  love,  a  sense  of 
gracious  pity,  of  patient  condescension,  of  entire  and  transcendent 
excellence  in  Christ,  which  makes  me  feel  how  utterly  true  was 
the  impassionate  language  of  David  :  '  Whom  have  I  in  heaven 
but  Thee  ?  and  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  besides  Thee. 
My  heart  and  my  flesh  cry  out  for  God  ! '  .  .   . 

"  This  sentiment  does  not  spring  from  any  indifference  to  the 
slave,  but  from  a  yet  greater  sympathy  with  Christ  Jesus — the 
slave's  only  hope,  my  only  hope,  the  Saviour  of  the  world  !  " 

With  this  letter  we  close  our  consideration  of  Mr.  Beecher's 
work  in  this  era  of  slavery  agitation.  Great  as  were  his  labors — 
and  we  think  they  were  unsurpassed  and  unequalled  by  those  of 
any  other  man — we  still  believe  that  his  best  contribution  to  the 
great  cause  was  the  spirit  which  he  manifested  and  the  motives 
that  influenced  him.  It  was  like  the  walking  of  the  Hebrew 
youths  in  the  fiery  furnace  and  coming  forth  unscathed  from  the 
flames. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Battle  Renewed — Repeal  of  the  Missouri  Compromise  Proposed — The 
Snuggle  in  Congress — Mr.  Beecher's  Appeals — The  Battle  lost  in  Con- 
gress is  Transferred  to  the  Territories — Forces  Engaged — Kansas  War — 
Dred  Scott  Decision — Mr.  Beecher's  Defence  of  Kansas — "  Beecher's 
Bibles" — Charles  Sumner  Attacked  in  the  Senate — The  Fremont  Cam- 
paign— The  Dog  Noble. 

T  ENRY,  the  battle  is  coming  on.  When  it  will  end  I  know 
not.  I  only  hope  that  every  one  feels  as  alert  as  I  do" 
(extract  from  a  letter  of  Mrs.  Stowe  to  Henry  Ward 
Beecher).  It  was  dated  November  i,  1852,  but  expresses  the  feel- 
ing of  some  of  the  more  sagacious  ones  during  the  whole  of  this 
era  of  apparent  peace.  They  were  not  deceived  by  the  surface 
calm.  They  felt  that,  beneath  all  party  platforms,  and  the  com- 
promises of  party  politics,  and  the  make-shifts  of  a  commercial 
spirit,  the  great  conscience  of  the  North  was  being  stirred.  Deep 
was  calling  unto  deep,  and  the  moanings  of  the  sea  that  pre- 
saged the  coming  tempest  had  reached  their  ears.  The  storm, 
not  a  new  one  but  the  violent  rising  of  the  same  old  elements, 
began  in  Congress  in  the  early  part  of  1854,  upon  the  question  of 
the  organization  of  the  territory  of  "  The  Platte,"  afterwards 
divided  into  two  Territories  called  "Kansas  and  Nebraska." 
The  star  of  empire  was  moving  Westward,  but  of  what  kind 
should  this  empire  be,  of  liberty  or  slavery  ?  If  matters  con- 
tinued as  they  then  were  it  must  be  the  former.  California, 
stretching  along  the  Pacific  coast  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
below  Mason  and  Dixon's  line,  had  declared  for  freedom  through 
all  her  borders.  The  Territories  of  New  Mexico  and  Utah  were 
not  favorable  to  any  great  growth  of  slavery  nor  capable  of 
rendering  it  much  assistance.  Texas,  although  intensely  pro- 
slavery,  yet,  by  reason  of  State  pride,  would  not  divide  her  im- 
perial domain  into  quarters  for  the  benefit  of  that  institution. 
Only  in  one  direction  was  expansion  and  growth  possible,  and 
that  was  in  this  broad  domain  which  was  now  asking  to  be  organ- 
ized into  Territories  and  would  soon  demand  admission  as  States. 

271 


272  BIOGRA PH  Y  OF 

Why  should  not  this  magnificent  country  be  opened  to  the  slave- 
owner and  his  property  as  well  as  to  the  settler  from  the  North  ? 
Was  not  this  his  right  ?  Other  factors  than  property  interests 
have  entered  into  the  question.  Conscience  has  been  enlisted 
upon  the  one  side  as  on  the  other.  The  South  has  come  to  look 
upon  slavery  as  having  equal  rights,  under  the  Constitution,  with 
liberty,  and  she  feels  aggrieved  that  she  is  not  given  all  the 
privileges  of  her  fellow-citizens  of  the  North.  The  only  thing 
that  apparently  prevented  this  natural  and,  as  it  seemed  to  her, 
just  expansion,  was  the  Missouri  Compromise,  which  had  solemnly 
guaranteed  this  whole  territory  to  freedom.  Why  not  repeal  this 
obnoxious  measure  ?  The  proposition  to  do  this  sprang  from 
Kentucky.  The  same  State  which,  through  its  senator.  Henry 
Clay,  had  been  foremost  in  originally  securing  the  act,  now 
through  its  senator,  Mr.  Dixon,  his  successor,  was  the  first  to 
ask  for  its  repeal.  Unlike  as  the  movement  seems,  and  dis- 
owned as  it  undoubtedly  would  have  been  by  Mr.  Clay,  the  great 
projector  of  the  Missouri  Compromise,  yet  in  reality  the  sub- 
stance of  each  is  the  same.  In  both  there  is  but  one  design — 
to  placate  the  slave-power  and  save  the  country  by  attempting 
to  compromise,  not  diverse  interests,  but  antagonistic  principles. 
They  were  but  separate  steps  in  one  path,  and  that  a  road  to- 
wards national  perversion,  disgrace,  and  ruin.  The  guiding  star 
which  once  shone  in  the  heavens  had  been  lost,  and  our  states- 
men were  taking  up  with  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  born  of  swamp  and 
miasma,  in  its  place. 

Although  the  project  was  conceived  by  the  South,  it  could 
not  have  been  brought  to  the  birth,  much  less  nourished  into 
baneful  strength,  had  it  not  been  adopted  by  the  North  in  the 
person  of  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  one  of  the  ablest  leaders  of  the 
Democratic  party,  a  member  of  the  United  States  Senate,  and 
chairman  of  the  Committee  upon  Territories.  Into  the  bill  for 
organizing  the  Territories  of  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  which  he  re- 
ported to  the  Senate  in  January  of  1854,  he  introduced  the  pro- 
position to  repeal  the  old  Missouri  Compromise.  The  mere  pro- 
posal was  regarded  as  little  less  than  sacrilege.  For  thirty  years 
that  compromise  had  been  looked  upon  as  a  sacred  pledge,  to  be 
held  in  the  same  reverence  as  the  Constitution  itself.  Scarcely 
four  years  before,  the  mover  of  the  proposition  for  its  repeal 
had  described  it  as  "  canonized  in  the  hearts  of  the  American 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  273 

people  as  a  sacred  thing  which  no  ruthlesi  hand  would  evei  be 

reckless   enough    to   disturb."      An  attempt    to   set  it  aside  roused 

the   most   intense  excitement   throughout   the  whole   land,  the 

South  in  favor,  the  North  opposed.  The  readiness  with  wln<  h 
the  flame  sprang  up  proved  that  through  these  past  years  of  ap- 
parent quiet  the  fire  had  been  covered  but  not  put  out.  Now  that 
fresh  fuel  was  added  and  the  draught  opened,  it  blazed  up  more 
fiercely  than  ever.     It  was  not  confined  to  any  class  or  condition. 

All  of  anti-slavery  tendencies  saw  in  it  an  evidence  of  the 
settled  purpose  of  the  South  to  nationalize  the  institution  of 
slavery,  and  a  testimony  that  it  would  not  scruple  to  use  any 
means  to  attain  its  end. 

Moralists  saw  in  it  a  disregard  of  most  sacred  promises,  and 
felt  the  ground  of  constitutional  fidelity  shaking  under  their  feet. 
More  than  three  thousand  clergymen  in  New  England  signed  a 
protest  against  the  action  proposed. 

"  We  protest  against  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  Compromise 
as  a  great  moral  wrong  ;  as  a  breach  of  faith,  eminently  unjust  to 
the  moral  principles  of  the  community  and  subversive  of  all  con- 
fidence in  national  engagements  ;  as  a  measure  full  of  danger  to 
the  peace  and  even  the  existence  of  our  beloved  Union,  and  ex- 
posing us  to  the  righteous  judgments  of  the  Almighty." 

Even  the  mere  politician  was  angry  that  an  issue  so  repug- 
nant to  a  majority  of  the  people  had  been  so  unwisely  precipi- 
tated. Nor  were  his  anger  and  apprehension  unwarranted. 
The  storm  of  popular  indignation  swept  down  like  a  tempest  upon 
the  forests,  scattering  dead  leaves,  breaking  off  dead  branches, 
and  throwing  down  trees  that  had  become  rotten  in  trunk  or 
root.  Before  the  end  of  the  year  the  Democratic  party  had  lost 
its  magnificent  majority  in  Congress,  and  the  Whig  party  had 
practically  ceased  to  exist,  dishevelled,  torn  up  by  the  roots, 
buried  by  the  storm. 

During  this  preliminary  contest  Mr.  Beecher  is  neither  indif- 
ferent nor  silent.  In  lectures,  in  special  sermons,  and  in  numer- 
ous Star  Papers  he  makes  his  influence  felt.  In  one  of  the  latter 
upon  "  The  Crisis  "  his  appeals  and  reproaches  go  out  to  all 
classes  : 

"  The  virtue,  the  morals,  the  prosperity  of  a  domain  large 
enough  to  be  an  empire  has  no  safeguard  about  it.  Those 
future  States,  silent  and  unpopulous,  are  like  so  many  lambs  hud- 


274  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

died  in  a  thicket  by  crowds  of  wolves,  that  only  wait  for  some 
single  taste  of  blood  to  plunge  in  and  tear  the  whole  !  Unless 
there  is  a  storm  from  the  people  that  shall  roll  like  thunder  in 
the  mountains  ;  unless  the  recreant  and  graceless  herd  in  Con- 
gress shall  hear  the  coming  down  of  many  waters,  like  roaring 
freshets  from  mountains  on  whose  tops  clouds  have  burst,  there 
will  soon  be  no  more  ground  to  fight  for.  If  anything  is  to 
be  done  it  must  be  done  by  the  North.  It  must  be  quickly, 
loudly,  and  impetuously  done  !  There  must  be  an  outcry  coming 
up  from  the  bosom  of  the  people,  like  that  which  rent  the  mid- 
night of  Egypt  when  all  its  first-born  were  stricken.  Let  no  man 
wait  for  his  fellow.  Let  children  and  women  lead  and  teach 
sluggish  manhood  with  what  energy  and  soul  a  voice  should  be 
heard  for  liberty,  upon  half  a  continent,  like  the  voice  of  God 
when  He  speaks  in  storms  ! 

"  Let  every  single  man  write,  '  I  solemnly  protest  against  the 
perfidy  and  the  outrage  of  abolishing  the  Missouri  Compromise '  ; 
and  as  he  bears  it  to  the  post-office,  if  he  find  a  fellow  to  sign  it, 
let  him  sign  ;  but  if  not,  let  it  go  as  his  single  protest. 

"  Let  families  send  solemn  protests — the  father  and  mother, 
the  children  and  hired  laborers.  Let  there  be  ten  thousand  peti- 
tions from  single  families  within  a  week  at  Washington. 

"  Let  churches  and  congregations  unite  and  send  instant 
petitions. 

"  In  this  solemn  hour  of  peril,  when  all  men's  hearts  sink 
within  them,  we  have  an  appeal  to  those  citizens  who  rebuked  us 
for  our  fears  in  1850. 

"  Did  you  not  declare  that  that  should  be  a  finality  ?  Did 
you  not  say  that,  by  a  concession  of  conscience,  we  should  there- 
after have  peace  ? 

"  Is  this  the  peace  ?  Is  this  the  fulfilment  of  your  promise  ? 
Is  not  this  the  very  sequence  which  we  told  you  would  come  ? 
That  compromise  was  a  ball  of  frozen  rattlesnakes.  You  turned 
them  in  your  hands  then  with  impunity.  We  warned  and  be- 
sought. We  protested  and  adjured.  You  persisted  in  bringing 
them  into  the  dwelling.  You  laid  them  down  before  the  fire. 
Now  where  are  they  ?  They  are  crawling  all  around.  Their 
fangs  are  striking  death  into  every  precious  interest  of  liberty  ! 
It  is  your  work  ! 

"  In  this  emergency  where  are  those  ministers  of  the  Gospel 


AY- r.  HENRY  WARD  BEECNER.  275 

who  have  always  refused  to  infuse  into  tin-  public  mind  a  sound 
ami  instructed  moral  sentiment  upon  the  subject  of  slavery  ? 
Hitherto  you  have  been  silent,  because  it  did  not  concern  the 
North,  We  earnestly  protested  that  so  deep  and  dreadful  a 
disease  could  not  prey  upon  any  limb  of  this  nation  and  not 
strike  its  taint  and  danger  through  and  through  the  whole  body 
politic.  We  implored  men  not  to  let  the  first  principles  of  human 
rights  die  out  of  the  popular  mind  ;  not  to  let  a  gigantic  engine 
of  despotism,  through  its  selfish  remunerations  of  commerce, 
deaden  every  quick  sensibility  to  justice  and  bribe  to  sleep  the 
vigilance  of  humanity,  though  every  palm  should  have  thrice  as 
many  pieces  of  silver  as  did  he  of  old. 

"  The  North  is  both  bound  and  asleep.  It  is  bound  with 
bonds  of  unlawful  compromise  !  You,  ministers  of  Christ,  held 
her  limbs,  while  the  gaunt  and  worthy  minions  of  oppression 
moved  about,  twisting  inextricable  cords  about  her  hands  and 
feet  ;  or,  like  Saul,  stood  by,  holding  the  garments  of  those  that 
slew  the  martyr  !  The  poor  Northern  conscience  has  been  like 
a  fly  upon  a  spider's  w^eb.  Her  statesmen,  and  not  a  few  of  her 
ministers,  have  rolled  up  the  struggling  insect,  singing  fainter 
and  fainter,  with  webs  of  sophistry,  till  it  now  lies  a  miserable, 
helpless  victim,  and  Slavery  is  crawling  up  to  suck  its  vital 
blood  ! 

"What,  then,  do  you  owe  to  God,  to  heaven,  and  to  your 
country,  in  an  effort  to  regain  conscience,  liberty,  and  duty  ? 
God,  who  searches  the  heart,  knows  that  it  is  not  in  our  heart  to 
say  these  things  for  the  sake  of  aspersion.  We  would  lie  down 
before  you,  and  let  your  steps  tread  our  very  neck,  if  you 
were  only  marching  toward  the  high  ends  of  our  country's  good. 
But  we  cannot  endure  to  see  noble  and  venerable  ministers  of 
the  Gospel  first  duped  and  deceived,  and  made  to  serve  the  ends 
of  oppression,  and  then,  when  the  mighty  juggle  is  detected, 
stand  silent  and  aghast,  as  unwilling  now  to  repair  as  before  to 
prevent  the  utter  misery  and  evil. 

"  But  let  us  not  be  deceived.  Let  every  man  be  prepared  for 
a  future  !  If  this  bill  shall  be  defeated  the  North  will  be  like 
a  man  just  dragged  out  of  the  rapids  above  Niagara  !  If  this  bill 
pass,  the  North  will  be  like  a  man  whirled  in  the  very  wildest 
rage  of  the  infuriate  rapids  and  making  headlong  haste  toward 
the  awful  plunge. 


276  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"Does  any  man  believe  that  there  can  be  peace  if  this  iniquity 
goes  forward  ?  Will  the  South,  with  such  advantage  gained,  easily 
relinquish  her  grip  ?  Will  the  North,  betrayed,  wounded,  and  re- 
ligiously aroused  from  the  very  bottom,  let  slave  States  come  to 
the  door  of  the  Union,  from  the  very  territory  of  which  she  has 
been  cheated,  and  bid  them  enter  ?  Such  struggles  are  before  us 
as  we  have  never  seen.  The  next  time  the  masses,  the  religious- 
minded  men  of  the  then  undivided  North,  are  aroused,  standing 
on  no  flimsy  base  of  compromise  but  on  the  solid  foundations  of 
humanity,  of  natural  feeling,  of  a  Northern  national  feeling 
springing  from  a  love  of  liberty,  they  will  not  be  put  to  sleep 
again  by  any  mere  pretences  of  peace.  The  finality  which  the 
South  gave  was  a  hollow  truce  but  to  give  them  time  to  forge 
their  arms  and  grind  their  swords.  They  bribed  the  North  with 
a  lie.  The  next  time  the  North  reaches  forth  her  hand  it  will 
scarcely  be  for  gold  or  silver.  There  is  more  danger  now  of  wild 
collisions  than  of  lying  finalities.  It  will  come  to  that  if  the  fool- 
ish counsels  of  timid  men  prevail.  If  civil  wars  are  to  be  pre- 
vented, now  is  the  time  ;  courage  to-day  or  carnage  to-morrow. 
Firmness  will  give  peace  ;  trembling  will  bring  war.  *  " 

Another  one  follows  upon  "The  Christian's  Duty  to  Liberty"  : 

"Mar.  23,  1854. — At  length  God  seems  to  have  caught  the 
wicked  in  their  own  craft.  It  was  not  in  the  power  of  all  the 
men  of  the  North  to  develop  so  earnest  a  feeling  against  slavery 
and  for  liberty  as  is  now  finding  tongue  and  giving  itself  forth  all 
over  the  North.  All  that  for  which  we  have  been  counted  un- 
charitable by  men  anxious  to  be  honorable  toward  the  South  has 
come  to  pass. 

"  Let  the  conscience  of  the  North  settle  this  question,  not  her 
fears.  God  calls  us  to  a  religious  duty.  Long  has  our  talent  lain 
in  a  napkin.  Our  testimony  for  liberty  has  been  waived  ;  our  as- 
sertion of  freedom  has  been  timid  and  without  enthusiasm.  We 
have  refused  to  accept  at  God's  hands  the  true  mission  of  the 
North,  to  preach  liberty  to  the  captives  and  elevation  to  the 
whole  human  family.  At  length  let  the  banner  flow  out  to  the 
wind,  let  the  battle  begin.  There  will  never  be  another  day  of 
grace  if  this  goes  past.  Retreat  now  and  the  North  will  never  re- 
treat again.  We  beseech  Christian  men  and  ministers  to  put  this 
question  where  it  belongs,  upon  a  religious  basis.  Let  them  feel 
their  duty  in  their  own  land  as  they  feel  their  duty  of  preaching 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH  EX.  2JJ 

the  truth  of  Christ,  whether  men  will  hear  or  whether  they  will 

forbear. 

"  Oh  !  that  God,  by  breathing  a  spirit  of  prayer  upon  His  peo- 
ple and  of  unflinching  fidelity,  would  give  us  token  that  He  has 
appeared  at  length  for  our  salvation  !  " 

In  spite  of  all  efforts  to  the  contrary,  the  repeal  of  the  Mis- 
souri Compromise  was  effected  in  September  of  1854,  and  the 
battle  which  had  been  fought  in  Congress  and  lost  by  the  free 
States  was  at  once  transferred  to  the  newly-admitted  Territory, 
and  was  there  waged  with  a  fierceness  and  persistence  that  cannot 
be  understood  or  appreciated,  unless  it  be  remembered  that  Kan- 
sas had  become  the  strategic  point  of  the  whole  great  conflict. 
Given  Kansas,  slavery  would  have  not  only  additional  territory, 
but,  what  was  even  more  important  to  its  purposes,  a  majority  in 
the  United  States  Senate  that  should  for  ever,  as  it  hoped,  pre- 
vent the  admission  of  more  free  than  slave  States,  or  the  follow- 
ing of  any  course  which  should  be  prejudicial  to  its  interests.  In 
this  new  field  the  North  at  first  labored  under  great  disadvan- 
tage. The  peculiar  institution  had  already  been  planted  and  had 
taken  root.  The  eastern  border  of  Kansas  was  upon  Missouri,  a 
slave  State  which  was  fully  aware  of  the  advantage  that  broader 
fields  would  furnish  the  labor  of  her  increasing  slave  population, 
and  containing  enough  of  a  rough  and  wild  frontier  element  to  carry- 
through  any  plan  that  desperation  or  villany  might  devise.  The 
President  of  the  United  States  Senate  and  acting  Vice-President 
of  the  United  States,  David  R.  Atchison,  was  on  the  ground,  and 
for  months  had  been  organizing  Blue  Lodges  and  other  secret 
bodies,  with  the  intent  to  take  possession  of  the  Territory,  or  at 
least  of  its  polling-places,  and  secure  it  for  slavery.  The  officers 
appointed  by  the  President — a  governor,  three  judges,  a  secretary, 
a  marshal,  and  an  attorney — were,  of  course,  all  favorable  to  the 
policy  of  the  Administration,  a  policy  which  was  all  that  the  most 
radical  pro-slavery  advocate  could  desire. 

The  party  thus  happily  situated  did  not  hesitate  to  avail  itself 
of  its  advantages.  Its  members  swarmed  across  the  borders  at 
the  election  of  a  delegate  to  Congress,  took  possession  of  the 
ballot-boxes,  appointed  judges  of  election  from  their  own  num- 
ber, elected  their  man  by  an  overwhelming  majority,  and  then  for 
the  most  part  returned  to  their  homes  in  Missouri. 

This  was  in  October,  1854.      In  the  following  spring  a  Legis- 


2j8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

lature  was  elected  by  the  same  illegal  process,  and  proceeded  at 
once  to  form  a  constitution  most  rabidly  pro-slavery.  It  pre- 
scribed the  death-penalty  for  any  who  should  entice  or  decoy 
away  a  slave  or  assist  him  to  escape,  and  ten  years'  imprisonment 
for  harboring  or  concealing  a  fugitive  slave.  To  deny  the  right 
of  holding  slaves  in  the  Territory,  either  by  speaking,  writing, 
printing  or  circulating  books  or  papers,  was  declared  to  be  felony, 
punishable  with  two  years'  imprisonment.  Having  formed  an 
elaborate  constitution  of  the  above  character,  and  made  ample 
provision  for  enforcing  its  requirements,  they  selected  a  site  for 
the  new  State  capital,  called  it  Lecompton — after  the  attorney  of 
the  State,  whose  legal  acquirements  had  assisted  them  greatly  in 
their  villany — and  adjourned. 

Looking  upon  affairs  as  they  then  appeared,  and  seeing  that 
the  Legislature,  however  elected,  had  been  officially  recognized, 
and  that  its  enactments  were  in  form  legal,  that  the  whole  ma- 
chinery of  courts,  marshals,  and  militia  were  in  its  hands  and 
could  be  used  to  enforce  its  statutes,  that  it  was  favored  by 
the  Administration  and  the  dominant  faction  at  Washington, 
which  could  employ  the  United  States  army  for  its  support,  it 
would  seem  as  if  the  battle  had  already  been  lost  to  the  Free- 
State  men,  and  that  Kansas  could  be  counted  upon  to  give  that 
majority  in  the  United  States  Senate  which  the  slave-power  so 
greatly  coveted.  But  other  forces  were  at  work.  In  the  first 
place,  the  very  enormity  of  these  slave-laws  compelled  all  the 
decent  residents  of  Kansas,  whether  Free-Soil,  Whig,  or  Demo- 
crat, to  combine  for  their  own  defence  against  the  possible  out- 
rages to  which  they  were  exposed  by  these  enactments.  In  the 
second  place,  the  party  which  had  brought  about  the  repeal  of 
the  Missouri  Compromise  had,  by  this  very  act,  lost  the  control 
of  the  Lower  House  in  Congress,  and  could  not  be  relied  upon 
to  admit  the  Territory  with  its  present  infamous  code.  Besides 
these  near  and  more  immediate  advantages,  there  were  forces  en- 
listed on  this  side  that  were  working  slowly  but  with  great  cer- 
tainty toward  the  result  aimed  at  by  the  Free-State  men.  The  old 
migratory  instinct  which  had  throbbed  in  the  veins  of  this  race 
from  the  first,  which  had  brought  them  from  the  steppes  of  Asia 
to  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic,  pushed  the  stronger  and  abler  ones 
across  the  seas,  moved  them  from  the  sea-coast  to  the  foot  of  the 
Alleghanies,  then  drove  them  across  this  barrier  to  take  posses- 


KEl'.  I/IiXKY  ll'Ah'P   BEECHER. 


279 


sion  of  the  great  valley  of  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi,  was  still 
as  active  as  ever  and  readily  responded  to  the  enticements  of  the 

new  and  fertile  lands  just  opened  in  Kansas  for  settlement.  No 
sooner  was  it  known  that  the  broad  plains  of  this  Territory  could 
be  Occupied  than  the  tide  began  to  flow  in  this  direction.  Prin- 
ciple also  came  in  to  strengthen  and  ennoble  this  instinct. 

"Then  arose  a  majesty  of  self-sacrifice  that  had  no  parallel 
before.  Instead  of  merely  protesting,  young  men  and  maidens, 
laboring  men,  farmers,  mechanics,  sped  with  a  sacred  desire  to 
rescue  free  territory  from  the  toils  of  slavery,  and  emigrated  in 
thousands,  not  to  better  their  own  condition,  but  in  order  that 
when  this  Territory  should  vote  it  should  vote  for  freedom." 

Lest  both  instinct  and  principle  should  move  too  slowly  or 
with  insufficient  equipment,  emigrant  societies  were  formed  at  the 
North  to  assist  those  who  would  offer  themselves  for  the  redemp- 
tion of  Kansas.  One  of  the  earliest  of  these  to  be  on  the  ground 
was  the  "  Massachusetts  Emigrant  Aid  Company,"  headed  by  the 
Hon.  Eli  Thayer.  This  organization  sent  out  a  body  of  some 
thirty  persons,  who,  in  July  of  this  year,  had  founded  the  town  of 
Lawrence.  With  this  company,  organized,  mutually  acquainted, 
and  trained  in  the  orderly  methods  of  New  England,  for  a  centre, 
there  rapidly  gathered  a  strong  body,  and  one  that  well  repre- 
sented the  bona-fide  settlers  of  Kansas.  They  proceeded  at  once 
to  call  a  mass  convention  and  elect  delegates.  In  due  time  a 
Constitutional  Convention  was  called  at  Topeka,  October  23, 
1S55,  which  formed  a  constitution,  submitted  it  to  the  people, 
from  whom  it  met  with  a  hearty  endorsement.  It  was  then  trans- 
mitted to  Congress  for  approval. 

These,  Lecompton  and  Topeka,  were  the  storm-centres  around 
which  surged  the  principal  events  of  those  turbulent  times  in 
Kansas  which  have  been  designated  as  "The  Kansas  War."  It 
was  a  wild,  irregular,  barbarous,  and  bloody  strife,  made  up  of 
night-attacks,  house-burnings,  secret  murders,  skirmishes  between 
armed  bodies  sometimes  rising  to  the  proportions  of  a  battle, 
Lawrence  twice  burned,  Leavenworth  sacked,  and  acts  of  that 
description,  filling  up  four  years  or  more  of  most  eventful  history. 

Kansas  at  that  time  was  the  skirmish-line  of  two  great  hosts 
that  were  already  settling  down  to  a  life-and-death  struggle.  On 
the  one  side  a  Legislature,  as  we  have  seen,  elected  largely  by 
the  votes  of  marauders  from  an  adjoining  State ;  a  reckless  popu- 


280  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

lation  just  over  the  line,  whose  historic  name,  Border  Ruffians, 
seems  to  have  been  fully  deserved,  organized  into  secret  bands 
ready  to  march  at  a  moment's  warning,  equipped  either  to  vote  or 
fight  as  should  be  required  ;  a  regiment  of  United  States  troops 
placed  at  their  disposal  ;  the  whole  South  awake  to  the  work 
they  have  undertaken,  and  forwarding  supplies  of  men  and  money 
for  the  support  of  those  already  on  the  field  ;  and  the  Administra- 
tion at  Washington,  through  portions  of  two  presidential  terms, 
alternately  scheming  and  commanding  for  its  success. 

On  the  other  hand  was  a  Legislature,  illegally  convened,  but 
elected  by  a  large  majority  of  the  resident  population  of  the  Ter- 
ritory, with  a  constituency,  some  of  them  doubtless  adventurers, 
some  fanatics,  and  others  possibly  villains,  but  for  the  most  part 
honest  homesteaders,  living,  it  may  be,  in  sod  huts  or  dug-outs,  but 
living  upon  land  which  they  had  pre-empted  and  could  call  their 
own  ;  the  great  North  behind  them,  slowly  but  surely  moving 
down  to  their  rescue  ;  the  throb  of  the  world's  progress  beating 
towards  them  ;  the  consciousness  that  they  are  fulfilling  the  pur- 
poses of  God  in  saving  this  land  to  liberty  animating  them  ;  and 
the  great  natural  elements  of  soil,  air,  and  sunshine,  that  are  al- 
ways on  the  side  of  liberty,  working  for  them.  These  were  the 
forces  on  the  other  side. 

Each  section  came  to  the  support  of  its  skirmish-line  in  char- 
acteristic fashion  :  the  South  by  military  companies  and  the  in- 
cursions of  armed  bands  of  raiders  aiming  to  conquer  the  coun- 
try, if  necessary,  by  force  of  arms  and  overawe  it  into  accepting 
its  bogus  State  constitution.  The  North  came  in  emigrant- 
wagons,  with  family,  stock,  house-furniture,  and  farm  utensils, 
prepared  to  remain  and  occupy  the  land. 

The  general  trend  of  the  government  at  an  early  period  in 
the  strife,  as  seen  in  various  acts  at  home  and  abroad,  must  also 
be  taken  into  the  account.  The  Ostend  Manifesto,  issued  under 
the  inspiration  of  President  Pierce  by  our  three  ministers,  Bu- 
chanan, Mason,  and  Soule,  at  the  courts  respectively  of  London, 
Paris,  and  Madrid,  recommended  the  purchase  of  Cuba,  if  pos- 
sible; if  not  that  we  obtain  it  by  force.  "If  Spain,"  they  said, 
"  should  refuse  to  sell  Cuba  to  the  United  States,  then  by  every 
law,  human  and  divine,  we  shall  be  justified  in  wresting  it  from 
her,  if  we  possess  the  power."  Slavery  at  this  period  had  a 
foreign  as  well  as  a  home  policy.     It  was  that  of  the  old  bucca- 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEBCHER.  281 

ncer,  a  policy  of  unscrupulous  aggression,  that  would  not  hesi- 
tate to  embroil  the  nation  in  war,  if  necessary  for  the  carrying 
out  of  its  designs.  Filibustering  expeditions,  which  were  con- 
tinually being  planned  and  attempted  at  this  time  against  Cuba 

and  Central  America,  were  rightly  looked  upon  not  only  as  addi- 
tional proof  of  the  purpose  but  as  the  initial  steps  in  the  pro- 
posed plan  of  foreign  conquest. 

As  it  the  forces  arrayed  against  liberty  were  not  enough,  as 
the  conflict  advanced  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
added  its  influence  to  the  side  of  the  antagonist.  In  the  historic 
Dred  Scott  decision,  given  in  the  spring  of  1857,  the  ground  is 
taken  that  the  negro  slave  is  so  completely  and  exclusively 
property,  under  the  Constitution,  that  the  owner  can  take  him,  as 
any  other  property,  into  any  and  all  territory  belonging  to  the 
I" nited  States  government.  In  effect  "the  negro  has  no  rights 
which  the  white  man  is  bound  to  respect." 

After  the  lapse  of  many  years,  upon  a  calm  review  of  that 
decision  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the  historical  errors,  the 
feeble  reasoning,  or  the  immoral  sentiments  most  awaken  our 
surprise  and  contempt.  It  is  sufficient  for  our  purpose  at  this 
time  to  know  that  this  decision  threw  a  vast  influence  against 
the  Free-State  men.  If  it  were  final,  then  their  struggle  was 
all  in  vain.  Strive  as  much  as  they  would,  and  suffer  as  much 
as  they  might,  they  could  never  make  Kansas  a  free  State. 
And  yet,  in  spite  of  the  Dred  Scott  decision,  the  hostility  of 
the  Administration,  and  all  other  adverse  forces  and  circum- 
stances, they  held  on.  To  this  result  had  our  country  come  through 
the  compromises  and  surrenders  of  three-quarters  of  a  century  : 
slavery  in  possession  of  the  machinery  of  government,  nationalized 
by  the  highest  tribunal  in  the  land,  declared  to  have  equal  rights 
with  freedom  in  all  the  public  domain,  and,  in  logical  sequence, 
not  to  be  shut  out  from  even  the  free  States.  Every  institu- 
tion of  thirty  millions  of  freemen  was  to  be  judged  and  graded, 
encouraged  or  restrained,  with  supreme  reference  to  the  inte- 
rests of  this  institution.  Dominant  at  home,  it  was  already  tak- 
ing steps  preparatory  to  foreign  conquest,  and  the  only  effective 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  the  consummation  of  its  plans  was  the 
life-and-death  tenacity  with  which  the  free  settlers  of  Kansas 
held  to  their  determination  that  theirs  should  be  a  free  State. 

The  contest  continued  for  four  years  before  any  substantial 


282  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

advantage  was  gained  for  the  Free  State  party.  Four  governors, 
three  appointed  by  President  Pierce  and  one  by  President  Bu- 
chanan, had  successively  been  sent,  and  then  deposed  and  dis- 
graced because  they  could  not,  or  would  not,  carry  out  the  un- 
just measures  proposed  by  the  Administration.  The  victory  in 
Congress  in  1858  was  simply  a  resubmission  of  the  Lecompton 
constitution  to  the  people  o-f  the  State  to  be  voted  upon,  whether 
they  would  accept  it  or  frame  one  for  themselves.  They  of 
course  buried  it  amid  universal  execrations.  Slight  and  unmis- 
takably just  as  was  this  concession  of  Congress,  it  was  neverthe- 
less secured  but  by  a  small  majority.  The  change  of  five  votes 
would  have  passed  the  notorious  Lecompton  Bill,  admitted  the 
State  with  slavery  into  the  Union,  added  two  senators  to  the  slave- 
power,  restored  the  supremacy  of  that  power  in  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States,  to  be  followed  by  the  carrying  out  the  Dred 
Scott  decision  to  its  logical  consequences,  slavery  supremacy  at 
home,  slavery  aggression,  annexation,  and  expansion  over  Cuba 
and  Central  America,  abroad.  A  vast  slave-empire  stretching 
from  the  lakes  to  the  southern  shores  of  the  Caribbean  Sea  seemed 
not  an  improbable  dream,  if  there  had  not  been  wisdom  enough 
or  will  enough  to  fight  the  battle  out  in  Kansas.  All  honor  to 
those  brave  men  and  women  who  in  those  days  saved  this  Terri- 
tory to  the  North  !  All  honor  to  those  who  stood  by  them  and 
helped  them  to  win  !  A  more  important  battle  was  never  fought 
in  our  history,  and  a  more  heroic  spirit  was  never  shown.  What 
the  chateau  of  Hougoumont,  held  by  the  British  right  centre,  was 
to  the  battle  of  Waterloo  ;  what  the  "  Bloody  Angle  "  held  by 
Hancock  was  to  the  battle  of  Spottsylvania  Court-House,  such 
was  the  Kansas  war  in  the  early  and  determining  era  of  the  great 
American  conflict. 

Call  this  four  years  of  struggle  one  battle,  and  it  will  take  rank 
with  the  "  fifteen  great  battles"  of  the  world's  history,  second  in 
importance  to  none. 

We  have  thus  given  an  outline  of  this  great  preliminary  strug- 
gle of  the  war,  that  Mr.  Beecher's  position  and  labors,  which  were 
much  criticised  at  the  time,  may  be  seen  in  their  true  light.  As 
is  well  known,  he  threw  himself  into  this  work  with  all  the  enthu- 
siasm which  such  an  emergency  might  be  supposed  to  awaken. 
He  felt  the  importance  of  the  struggle  and  the  need  of  instant 
action.     Since,   under    the    doctrine  of  "  squatter   sovereignty," 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  283 

which  had  taken  the  place  of  the  former  restriction,  the  question 

of  freedom  or  slavery  in  Kansas  must  be  decided  by  the  vote  of 
the  actual  settlers,  these  must  be  aided  to  emigrate  to  that  Terri- 
tory from  the  North,  and  at  once.  Since  they  were  to  be  the 
foundation  elements  of  a  Christian  State,  they  should  be  supplied 
with  Bibles  ;  and  since  they  would  doubtless  be  called  upon  to  de- 
fend themselves  against  attack,  they  »iust  be  supplied  with  fire- 
arms. He  lectured  and  took  up  collections  in  Plymouth  Church 
and  from  the  lecture  platform  for  Sharp's  rifles,  an  arm  then  but 
just  come  into  notice.  He  preached,  lectured,  and  bought  rifles 
with  the  same  object  in  view — to  redeem  men  to  liberty  ;  and 
with  the  same  spirit — love  to  God  and  man.  Some  of  the  rifles, 
it  is  said,  were  sent  in  boxes  marked  Bibles,  but  without  his 
knowledge,  and  so  passed  in  safety  through  Missouri  and  the  ene- 
my"s  lines.  Hence  the  term  Beecher's  Bibles  came  to  be  applied 
to  these  effective  weapons. 

At  this  time,  he  published  his  famous  "  Defence  of  Kansas," 
that  showed  not  more  clearly  the  warmth  of  his  spirit  than  his 
clear  understanding  of  the  issues  at  stake  and  the  dangers  that 
were  impending  : 

"*  A  battle  is  to  be  fought.  If  we  are  wise  it  will  be  bloodless. 
If  we  listen  to  the  pusillanimous  counsels  of  men  who  have  never 
shown  one  throb  of  sympathy  for  liberty,  we  shall  have  blood  to 
the  horses'  bridles.  If  we  are  firm  and  prompt  to  obvious  duty, 
if  we  stand  by  the  men  of  Kansas  and  give  them  all  the  help 
they  need,  the  flames  of  war  will  be  quenched  before  it  bursts 
forth,  and  both  they  of  the  West  and  we  of  the  East  shall,  after 
some  angry  mutterings,  rest  down  in  peace.  But  if  our  ears  are 
poisoned  by  the  advice  of  men  who  never  rebuke  violence  on  the 
side  of  power,  and  never  fail  to  inveigh  against  the  self-defence 
of  wronged  liberty,  we  shall  invite  aggression  and  civil  war. 
And  let  us  know  assuredly  that  civil  war  will  not  burst  forth  in 
Kansas  without  spreading.  Now,  if  bold  wisdom  prevails,  the 
conflict  will  be  settled  afar  off  in  Kansas,  and  without  blows  or 
blood.  But  timidity  and  indifference  will  bring  down  blows  there, 
which  will  not  only  echo  in  our  houses  hitherward,  but  will  by 
and  by  lay  the  foundation  for  an  armed  struggle  between  the 
whole  North  and  the  South.  Shall  we  let  the  spark  kindle,  or 
shall  we  quench  it  now  ?  But,  that  intelligent  citizens  may  the 
better  judge,  let  the  facts  of  this  case  be  reviewed.  .  .  . 


284  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  There  was  never  so  strong  an  appeal  to  public  sympathy  as 
that  which  is  presented  in  the  case  of  Kansas  free  settlers.  Their 
emigration  was  a  mission  of  mercy,  full  of  the  ripest  fruits  of 
Christianity.  Their  conduct  has  been  noble.  They  have  borne 
hardships  without  faltering,  they  have  borne  outrage  and  perse- 
cution with  patience,  returning  good  for  evil.  They  have  suf- 
fered wrongs  manifold  and  infinitely  provoking,  without  retalia- 
tion. When  aggression  on  one  occasion  was  pushed  so  sorely 
that  their  patience  failed,  some  of  the  men  said  :  '  We  cannot 
bear  such  wrongs.'  The  reply  made  by  Pomeroy  will  become  a 
maxim  of  Christian  men  :  '  Be  patient  !  your  wrongs  are  your 
very  strength.' 

"  When  the  armed  day  came,  and  their  adversaries  came  out 
to  consume  them,  then,  and  only  then,  they  took  up  arms  and 
surrounded  their  homes  with  living  men,  determined  not  to 
attack,  but  never  to  surrender.  .  .  .  Once  when  England  only 
asserted  the  right  to  tax  the  colonies  without  representation,  the 
colonies  rebelled  and  went  to  war.  But  now  a  foreign  Legisla- 
ture has  been  imposed  upon  Kansas.  That  Legislature  has  legal- 
ized slavery  against  the  known  wishes  of  nine-tenths  of  the  actual 
settlers.  It  has  decreed  that  no  man  shall  enter  the  Territory 
who  will  not  take  an  oath, of  allegiance  to  this  spurious  Legisla- 
ture. It  has  made  it  death  to  give  liberty  to  the  man  escaping 
from  oppression.  It  has  muzzled  the  press.  It  has  forbidden 
discussion.  It  has  made  free  speech  a  penitentiary  offence.  The 
rights  for  which  the  old  colonists  fought  were  superficial  com- 
pared with  these.  These  are  the  rights  which  lie  at  the  very 
heart  of  personal  liberty. 

"  Indeed,  there  can  be  no  personal  freedom  where  free  speech,, 
a  free  press,  a  free  canvass  and  discussion  are  penitentiary  of- 
fences !  These  are  the  laws  which  the  President  is  determined  to 
enforce  !  Congress  is  to  be  asked  for  money  to  sustain  this  gov- 
ernment in  Kansas, -or  to  pay  for  an  army  to  cut  the  throats  of 
every  free  citizen  who  will  not  yield  to  this  infamy  !  .   .  . 

,(  Peace  in  Kansas  means  peace  everywhere  ;  war  there  will 
be  war  all  over  the  land.  Now  it  can  be  stopped.  But  fear  will 
not  do  it.  A  truculent  peace  will  not  do  it.  Indolence  and  pre- 
sumptuous prayer  will  but  hasten  the  mischief.  When  tyrants  are 
in  arms  they  who  cry  peace  become  their  confederates.  Manli- 
ness, action,  courage,  and  ample  preparation  for  defence  will  stop 


REV,   HENRY   WARD  U!  I  CHER.  285 

the  danger.     The  Providence  that  will  help  us  is  the  Providence 

that  we  help,      God  works  for  those  who  work   for    Him.      When 

He   answer-   prayer   tor   harvests    He   inspires   men    to   work,  and 

petitions  for  crops  and  harvests  arc  answered  through  ploughs  and 
spades.  And  God  will  answer  prayers  tor  peace  by  inspiring 
men  with  justice,  with  abhorrence  of  oppression  ;  by  making  good 
men  bold  and  active,  and  bad  men  feeble  and  cowardly  ;  by  stop- 
ping the  ears  of  the  community  to  the  counsel  of  cowards  and 
hypocrites.  Let  every  man  in  this  awful  crisis  not  fail  to  pray, 
and,  that  they  may  pray  without  hypocrisy,  let  them  watch  and 
work  !  How  shall  we  dare  ask  God  to  save  us  from  bloodshed 
when  we  will  not  use  the  means  He  has  put  into  our  hands  ?  Faith 
without  works  and  prayer  without  works  are  dead — stone-dead. 
Let  the  emigrants  go  hither  and  thither  by  hundreds,  and  pray  as 
they  go  !  Let  them  that  have  money  now  pour  it  out,  and  pray 
as  they  give  !  Let  them  that  have  sons  in  Kansas  send  them 
arms,  and  pray  that  they  may  have  no  occasion  to  use  them  ;  but 
that,  if  they  must  be  used,  that  the  son  may  so  wield  them  that 
the  mother  be  not  ashamed  of  the  son  whom  she  bore  !  Let 
them  that  have  influence  speak  out  !  Let  ministers  and  Christian 
free  men  now,  if  ever,  speak  against  barbarism  and  uphold  the 
whole  retinue  of  Christian  institutions  !  Let  those  whose  tongue 
has  been  hitherto  palsied  by  evil  advisers  now  loose  their  tongue 
and  speak!  Of  whom  will  the  land  take  counsel?  There  have 
been  two  sorts  of  counsellors  hitherto.  One  has  pointed  out  for 
twenty  years  the  nature  of  slavery,  its  tendencies,  the  dangers 
which  it  threatened ;  and  all  the  prophecies  have  come  true.  The 
other  kind  of  counsellors  have  predicted  peace,  dissuaded  from 
action,  urged  compromise,  and  at  each  reluctant  step  have  prom- 
ised the  country  peace.  In  not  a  single  instance  have  they  been 
right.  Events  have  overthrown  every  one  of  their  promises. 
They  have  led  us  down  deeper  into  trouble  at  every  step.  We 
have  been  betrayed  by  kisses.  Excitements  have  deepened,  les- 
sons have  multiplied,  compromises  have  bred  cockatrices.  We 
are  spun  over  with  webs.  We  are  tangled  with  sophistries.  We 
have  everything  but  manliness,  straightforwardness,  courage,  and 
decisive  wisdom.  .  .  . 

11  But  what  is  done  must  be  done  quickly.  Funds  must  be 
freely  given  ;  arms  must  be  had,  even  if  bought  at  the  price  men- 
tioned by  our  Saviour  :   '  He  that  hath  no  sword,  let  him  sell  his 


2  86  BIOGRAPH  Y  OF 

garment  and  buy  one.'  Young  men  who  would  do  aught  for 
liberty  should  take  no  counsel  of  fear.  Now  is  the  time  when  a 
man  may  do  for  his  country  in  an  hour  more  than  in  a  whole 
life  besides.  Time  flies.  Events  hasten.  Fear  and  treacherous 
peace,  that  betray  duty  with  ignorant  words  of  religion,  will  ruin 
all  ;  but  energy,  courage,  action  will  save  all.  Woe  to  us  if  war 
comes  from  our  fault  !  If  it  comes,  on  the  skirts  of  false  peace 
will  its  blood  be  found  !  " 

Of  the  result  of  this  sending  armed  colonists  into  Kansas 
he  speaks  a  few  weeks  later  : 

"  Of  all  the  revolutions  on  record,  we  remember  none  so  re- 
markable as  that  which  has  been  wrought  by  Sharp's  rifles.  We 
do  not  know  that  a  single  man  has  ever  been  injured  by  them. 
They  are  guiltless  of  blood.  But  the  principle  which  they  in- 
volve has  brought  the  whole  South  to  a  protest  against  violence, 
even  in  the  extremest  necessity  of  self-defence  !  These  afore- 
time heroes  of  the  knife  and  revolver  are  now  deep  in  the  Scrip- 
tures. They  are  quoting  all  the  peaceable  texts  ;  they  hang  with 
irrepressible  delight  over  all  those  passages  which  teach  forbear- 
ance." 

Being  attacked  in  a  religious  paper  for  his  aggressive  attitude, 
he  answers  :  "  We  have  acted  consistently  with  our  settled  belief. 
We  have  nothing  to  retract." 

An  event  that  took  place  at  this  time  added  still  more  fuel 
to  the  hot  indignation  that  was  glowing  through  the  North — the 
attack  by  Preston  S.  Brooks,  of  South  Carolina,  upon  Charles 
Sumner,  May  22,  1856,  in  the  Senate  Chamber.  It  was  an  act 
so  cowardly  and  atrocious  that  it  cannot  be  recalled  after  these 
many  years  without  a  tingling  of  the  blood.  If  a  blow  had  been 
given  at  the  moment  of  the  debate,  if  the  man  seeking  redress 
had  approached  his  adversary  face  to  face  and  given  him  oppor- 
tunity to  defend  himself,  if  it  had  been  but  a  single  blow,  possi- 
bly some  extenuation  could  be  offered  ;  but  to  strike  a  man  a 
stunning  blow  without  warning,  when  he  is  sitting  at  his  desk 
and  so  hampered  that  he  is  unable  to  rise  until  he  has  torn  the 
desk  up  from  its  fastenings  ;  to  follow  with  more  than  a  score  of 
blows  until  the  instrument  of  attack,  a  heavy  cane,  is  broken  to 
pieces  and  his  victim  is  left  senseless — is  an  act  that,  search  where 
it  may,  can  find  nothing  to  add  to  its  infamy.  Among  the  meet- 
ings called  all  over  the  North  to    give  voice    to    the    anger   of 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  287 

the  people  a!  this  dastardly  act,  one  was  in  New  York  City. 
The    advertised     speakers    were    William    M.    K\arts,    John    Vail 

Buren,  Daniel  Lord,  Jr.,  and  others  of  eminence,     The  speeches 

were  able  but  tame  and  conservative.  They  did  not  meet 
the  demand  of  the  popular  heart  over  that  tremendous  out- 
rage. Just  as  the  meeting  was  being  adjourned  Mr.  Beecher  was 
discovered  in  the  baek  part  of  the  room,  having  come  in  to  Listen 
to  men  whose  reputation  was  so  great  but  whom  lie  had  never 
heard.  At  once  the  cry  from  the  unsatisfied  audience  was 
"  Beecher,  Beecher  !  " 

So  unexpected  was  the  call,  and  so  annoyed  was  he  at  being 
called  out,  that  it  required  almost  physical  force  to  get  him  to 
take  the  platform  ;  but  when  once  there  his  soul  kindled  with  the 
occasion.  A  simple  recital  of  facts  led  the  audience  step  by  step 
over  the  ground  which  had  been  traversed  for  the  last  ten  years. 
The  grand  principles  of  our  polity  were  uncovered  to  their 
view.  Scene  after  scene  was  depicted  by  his  marvellous  dramatic 
power,  culminating  in  that  outrage  in  the  Senate  Chamber  on  ac- 
count of  which  they  had  gathered  ;  and  the  audience,  alternately 
moved  by  his  pathos,  fired  by  his  passion,  or  swept  by  his  humor, 
became  one  with  the  speaker.  They  saw  as  he  saw,  they  felt  as 
he  felt ;  and  he  stamped  them  that  night  with  the  impress  of  his 
hatred  of  slavery  and  his  burning  enthusiasm  for  liberty.  The 
next  day  the  press  carried  this  impression  to  the  multitude  of  its 
readers,  and,  dismissing  the  other  speeches  of  the  evening  with  a 
formal  notice,  gave  his  as  nearly  as  possible  verbatim.  It  was 
his  meeting  for  the  first  time  upon  the  platform  with  the  leading 
men  of  the  country,  and  from  that  hour  he  took  his  place  with 
them  and  held  it  to  the  end. 

Many  leading  men  in  Massachusetts  having  been  invited  to  a 
similar  meeting  held  in  Boston,  and  sending  regrets,  he  analyzes 
,  their  excuses  in  a  Star  Paper  upon  "Hearts  and  no  Hearts": 

"  Admirable  !  The  man  is  sacrificed  to  the  position.  No  tear, 
no  indignation,  no  heart- felt  throb,  no  voice  or  gesture  which  be- 
fits an  open  and  free  heart.  All  instincts  and  spontaneity  must 
be  judged  by  supposed  interests  of  a  professorship.  In  such 
cases  as  this  the  man  is  a  mere  Jonah  in  the  whale's  belly.  His 
professorship  has  swallowed  his  manhood  !    Alas  for  the  whale  !" 

Of  this  attack  on  Sumner  he  said  in  the  Star  article  of  June 
12,  "  Silence  must  be  Nationalized  ": 


288  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  This  deed  stands  absolutely  alone  in  our  history.  It  has  not 
a  single  fellow!  There  have  been  brutal  things,  and  cruel  things, 
and  mean  things,  and  cowardly  things,  and  wicked  and  inhuman 
wrongs,  but  nothing  before  that  epitomized  them  all.  With  the 
exception  of  one  or  two  papers,  the  whole  South  has  accepted  the 
act  and  made  it  representative  !  It  is  no  longer  Brooks  that 
struck  Sumner !  He  was  the  arm,  but  the  whole  South  was  the 
body  !  And  with  one  consent  it  is  declared  that  for  the  crime 
of  free  speech  it  was  done  and  deserved  !  " 

In  the  meantime  a  new  party,  born  of  this  conflict,  was  rapidly 
coming  into  power.  Made  up  of  elements  apparently  most  di- 
verse, it  was  brought  together  by  a  common  purpose  and  fused 
into  one  by  a  grand  enthusiasm.  There  was,  for  a  nucleus,  the 
larger  part  of  the  old  Free-Soil  party,  that  had  been  in  existence 
since  1842  ;  then  came  Abolitionists,  of  which  there  had  been 
for  years  a  sprinkling  in  all  the  Northern  States  ;  seceders  from 
the  Whig  party,  called  in  New  York  State  "Silver  Grays,"  and 
from  the  Democratic  party,  called  "  Barnburners  ; "  and  a  mul- 
titude of  others,  a  daily  increasing  host,  vital  in  every  member 
with  the  spirit  of  the  hour.  Combining  some  of  the  best  ele- 
ments of  all  the  parties,  it  had  a  breadth  of  power  that  no  one 
party  could  have  given  it  alone.  While  it  had  enough  men  of 
experience  in  affairs  to  secure  wisdom  of  action,  its  recruits 
were  for  the  most  part  young  men,  who  brought  the  inspira- 
tion of  their  youth,  their  numbers,  their  hope,  and  their  indigna- 
tion. After  a  preliminary  mass  convention  in  Pittsburgh  on 
Washington's  birthday,  February  22,  1856,  they  met  in  Phila- 
delphia and  adopted  a  platform  of  principles  and  nominated 
candidates  for  President  and  Vice-President. 

In  this  platform  they  gave  their  attention  mostly  to  the  great 
issue  of  supreme  importance — that  between  liberty  and  slavery. 
Their  action  here  was  positive  and  unequivocal  :  no  more  slave 
territory  ;  no  more  coddling  of  slave  institutions.  Upon  this  plat- 
form it  nominated  John  C.  Fremont  for  its  standard-bearer,  and 
organized  its  hosts  for  the  great  presidential  contest  of  that  year. 

The  party  thus  brought  before  the  country  had  some  great 
advantages  over  all  rivals.  The  Whig  party  was  already  dead, 
although  not  yet  fully  conscious  of  the  fact,  and  awaiting  burial ; 
the  Democratic  party  was  inextricably  associated,  for  weal  or 
for  woe,  with   the  slave-power  ;    while  the  Know-Nothing  party 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER*  289 

WAS  but  a  mushroom,  and  a  poisonous  variety  at  that.  On  the 
other  hand,  this  new  organization  was  intensely  alive.  It  had 
a  definite  object  in  view  and  was  not  afraid  t<>  avow  it.  It  had 
the  strength  of  intense  moral  conviction.  Its  cause  gave  oppor- 
tunity for  inspiration  and  awakened  the  grandest  enthusiasm.  It 
was  in  harmony  with  the  fundamental  principles  of  our  nation 
and  the  early  struggles  of  our  people.  It  was  in  sympathy  with 
the  great  movement  of  the  age  in  all  lands.  Its  lengthening  lines 
and  the  rising  hosts  of  the  Old  World  were  parts  of  the  same 
army.  Its  standard-bearer,  by  reason  of  his  youth,  adventurous 
career,  and  brilliant  service,  was  well  adapted  to  awaken  a  loyal 
and  spirited  following.  It  had  nothing  to  conceal ;  it  had  nothing 
to  fear ;  it  carried  with  it  the  hopes  of  the  nation  and  the  world. 
Adopting  the  "  Marseillaise,"  the  greatest  liberty  song  that  was 
ever  written,  it  adapted  its  own  chorus  to  the  music  and  sang 
at  its  meetings  with  boundless  enthusiasm  : 

"  Arise,  arise,  ye  braves  ! 
And  let  your  war-cry  be, 
'  Free  speech,  free  press, 
Free  soil,  free  men, 
Fremont,  and  victory  ! '  " 

Mr.  Beecher  gave  himself  unreservedly  to  this  contest  : 
"  Well,  of  course  we  felt  all  aflame.  My  church  voted  me 
all  the  time  that  I  thought  to  be  required  to  go  out  into  the  com- 
munity and  speak  and  canvass  the  State  of  New  York.  I  went 
into  that  canvass,  spoke  twice  and  often  three  times  a  week, 
having  the  whole  day  to  myself — that  is,  making  all  the  speeches 
that  were  made.  I  was  sent  principally  to  what  we  called  the 
Silver-Gray  districts  or  counties — the  old-time  Whigs  that  were 
attempting  to  run  a  candidate  between  Fremont  and  Buchanan. 
I  generally  made  a  three  hours'  speech  a  day  in  the  open  air  to 
audiences  of  from  eight  to  ten  thousand  people.  I  felt  at  that 
time  that  it  was  very  likely  that  I  should  sacrifice  my  life,  or  my 
voice  at  any  rate,  but  I  was  willing  to  lay  down  either  or  both  of 
them  for  that  cause." 

Of  Mr.  Beecher's  contributions  to  the  literature  of  the  cam- 
paign we  can,  for  lack  of  space,  give  but  few  quotations,  and 
these  only  as  they  afford  an  idea  of  the  humorous  and  enthusi- 
astic manner  in  which  he  stood  up  for  his  candidate.     In  the 


29O  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

close  scrutiny  of  private  life,  which  is  so  marked  a  feature  of 
presidential  campaigns,  it  had  been  learned  that  John  C.  Fre- 
mont and  Jessie  Benton  had  fallen  in  love  with  each  other,  and, 
her  father  not  approving  of  his  daughter's  selection,  the  two 
lovers  had  made  a  runaway  match  of  it,  and  in  their  haste  had 
been  married  by  a  Roman  Catholic  priest.  This  escapade  was 
being  used  against  the  candidate  by  the  opposite  party,  not  be- 
cause he  ran  away  with  the  fair  Jessie — the  ballot  of  the  average 
American  voter  would  as  likely  be  won  as  lost  by  such  an  exhi- 
bition of  youthful  enterprise — but  because  it  helped  to  prove, 
what  was  persistently  claimed,  that  he  was  a  Roman  Catholic. 
In  answer  Mr.  Beecher  wrote  a  vigorous  article  disproving  the 
charge,  and  justifying  the  groom  in  securing  the  services  of  any 
one  competent  to  perform  the  marriage  ceremony,  closing  with 
these  words  :  "  Like  a  true  lover  and  gallant  man,  Fremont  said 
that  he  did  not  care  who  married  him,  so  that  it  was  done  quick 
and  strong.  If  we  had  been  in  Colonel  Fremont's  place  we 
would  have  been  married  if  it  had  required  us  to  walk  through  a 
row  of  priests  and  bishops  as  long  as  from  Washington  to  Rome, 
ending  up  with  the  Pope  himself  !  " 

He  ridicules  the  persistency  with  which  certain  newspapers 
returned  to  the  attack  upon  Fremont  on  the  assumed  ground  of 
his  being  a  Roman  Catholic,  with  the  story  of  "  The  Dog  Noble 
and  the  Empty  Hole,"  that  probably  did  as  good  campaign  ser- 
vice as  any  story  that  was  ever  written: 

"  The  first  summer  which  we  spent  in  Lenox  we  had  along 
a  very  intelligent  dog  named  Noble.  He  was  learned  in  many 
things,  and  by  his  dog-lore  excited  the  undying  admiration  of 
all  the  children.  But  there  were  some  things  which  Noble  could 
never  learn.  Having  on  one  occasion  seen  a  red  squirrel  run  into 
a  hole  in  a  stone  wall,  he  could  not  be  persuaded  that  he  was  not 
there  for  evermore  !  .  .  . 

"  The  intense  enthusiasm  of  the  dog  at  that  hole  can  hardly 
be  described.  He  filled  it  full  of  barking.  He  pawed  and 
scratched  as  if  undermining  a  bastion.  Standing  off  at  a  little 
distance,  he  would  pierce  the  hole  with  a  gaze  as  intense  and  fixed 
as  if  he  were  trying  magnetism  on  it.  Then,  with  tail  extended 
and  every  hair  thereon  electrified,  he  would  rush  at  the  empty 
hole  with  a  prodigious  onslaught. 

"  This  imaginary  squirrel  haunted  Noble  night  and  day.     The 


REV.  II EX RY   WARD  BEE  CHER. 


291 


verv  squirrel  himself  would  run  up  before  his  face  into  the  tree, 
and,  crouched  in  a  crotch,  would  sit  silently  watching  the  whole 
process  of  bombarding   the  empty   hole  with   great   sobriety  and 

relish.  But  Noble  would  allow  of  no  doubts.  His  conviction 
that  that  hole  had  a  squirrel  in  it  continued  unshaken  for  six 
weeks.  When  all  other  occupations  failed  this  hole  remained  to 
him.  When  there  were  no  more  chickens  to  harry,  no  pigs  to 
bite,  no  cattle  to  chase,  no  children  to  romp  with,  no  expeditions 
to  make  with  the  grown  folks,  and  when  he  had  slept  all  that  his 
dog-skin  would  hold,  he  would  walk  out  of  the  yard,  yawn  and 
stretch  himself,  and  then  look  wistfully  at  the  hole,  as  if  thinking 
to  himself  :  '  Well,  as  there  is  nothing  else  to  do,  I  may  as  well 
try  that  hole  again  ! ' 

"We  had  almost  forgotten  this  little  trait  until  the  conduct 
of  the  New  York  Express  in  respect  to  Colonel  Fremont's  re- 
ligion brought  it  ludicrously  to  mind  again.  Colonel  Fremont 
is,  and  always  has  been,  as  sound  a  Protestant  as  John  Knox 
ever  was.  He  was  bred  in  the  Protestant  faith  and  has  never 
changed.  .  .  . 

"  But  the  Express,  like  Noble,  has  opened  on  this  hole  in  the 
wall,  and  can  never  be  done  barking  at  it.  Day  after  day  it  re- 
sorts to  this  empty  hole.  When  everything  else  fails  this  re- 
source remains.  There  they  are  indefatigably — the  Express  and 
Noble — a  church  without  a  Fremont,  and  a  hole  without  a  squir- 
rel in  it !  .  .  . 

"  We  never  read  the  Express  nowadays  without  thinking  in- 
voluntarily, '  Goodness  !  the  dog  is  letting  off  at  that  hole  again.'  " 

The  election  of  1856  resulted,  as  is  well  known,  in  the  choice 
of  James  Buchanan  for  President.  Since  his  policy  was  dictated 
by  the  same  power  behind  the  throne  as  that  of  Mr.  Pierce,  it 
was,  of  course,  not  unlike  that  of  his  predecessor  ;  and  this  era  in 
the  great  conflict  which  opened  with  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise  closes  with  the  Administration  at  Washington  more 
than  ever  submissive  to  the  demands  of  the  South.  But  it  also 
closes  with  the  right  wing  of  the  great  army  of  liberty,  whose 
lines  reached  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  roots  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, securely  entrenched  and  holding  its  position,  and  with  con- 
tinually increasing  numbers,  barring  farther  aggressions  of  slavery 
for  ever. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Remarkable  experiences — The  Edmonson  Sisters — Pinky  and  her  Freedom- 
Ring — Slave  Auction  in  Plymouth  Church — John  Brown — The  Wrong 
and  Right  Way — Election  of  Abraham  Lincoln — Secession — Buchan- 
an's Fast. 

WHILE  these  larger  public  matters  were  engaging  his  atten- 
tion there  was   an  equally  engrossing  field  of  private   ac- 
tivity  in  which    he  was    constantly   engaged,    and  which 
developed  into  some  very  peculiar  and  remarkable  experiences. 
As  early  as  1848   we   find    him  conducting  an  auction  sale,  in 
New  York  City,  of  the  two  Edmonson  sisters. 

This  case  at  the  time  attracted  wide  attention.  Two  respecta- 
ble young  women  of  light  complexion,  living  in  Washington  City, 
had  the  misfortune  to  be  born  while  the  mother  was  a  slave. 
After  they  had  grown  to  worrlanhood  they  found  that  the  former 
owner  of  their  parent  was  about  to  sell  them  to  a  slave-dealer  for 
exportation  to  New  Orleans  and  the  market.  Despairing  of  being 
able  to  raise  the  exorbitant  .sum  at  which  they  were  valued,  and 
not  knowing  how  to  escape  from  a  doom  far  more  dreadful  than 
death,  they  risked  everything  by  going  on  board  the  Pearl 
schooner  with  seventy-seven  others,  in  the  hope  of  escaping 
to  a  land  of  liberty  and  purity.  The  ship  was  captured  and  they 
were  hurried  off  to  Slater's  Den,  Baltimore,  and  thence  to  New 
Orleans.  By  some  most  extraordinary  providences  they  were 
brought  back  from  New  Orleans  to  Washington,  and  their  sad 
case  at  length  reached  the  ears  of  those  who  had  hearts  to  feel 
and  means  to  save.  A  meeting  was  held  in  the  Tabernacle 
October  23,  at  which  Dr.  Dowling  and  Mr.  Beecher  spoke  with 
so  much  effect  that  $2,200  were  raised  and  the  captives  were 
free.  Mr.  Beecher's  speech  is  described  by  an  eye-witness,  him- 
self a  minister,  as  beyond  anything  he  has  ever  heard  before  or 
since.  He  extemporized  there  on  the  stage  an  auction  of  a  Chris- 
tian slave.  The  enumeration  of  his  qualities  by  the  auctioneer, 
and  the  bids  that  followed,  were  given  by  the  speaker  in  perfect 
character.      He  made  the  scene  as  realistic  as  one  of  Hogarth's 


RE  I '.  HENR  V  ir.lA'/)   BEECH ER 


293 


pictures  and  as  lurid  as  a  Rembrandt.  Physical  excellences,  men- 
tal, moral,  ami  spiritual  qualities,  are  each  dwelt  on  with  an  em- 
phasis ami  moving  effect  that  proved  that  he  would  have  made 
a  capital  auctioneer  it  he  had  chosen  that  busim 

"  And  more  than  all  that,  gentlemen,  they  say  he  is  one  of 
those  praying  Methodist  niggers  ;  who  bids  ?  A  thousand — fif- 
teen hundred — two  thousand — twenty-five  hundred  !  Going, 
going  !   last  call  !      Gone  /" 

The  audience  were  wrought  up  to  a  perfect  frenzy  of  excite- 
ment while  that  picture  was  being  drawn,  and  when  real  contri- 
butions instead  of  imaginary  bids  were  called  for,  the  sum  was 
easily  raised  and  the  girls  were  free.  He  says  of  it  :  "I  think 
that  of  all  the  meetings  that  I  have  attended  in  my  life,  for  a 
panic  of  sympathy  I  never  saw  one  that  surpassed  that.  I  have 
seen  a  great  many  in  my  day.  An  amount  of  money  was  sub- 
scribed, and  they  were  bought  and  set  free.  The  mother  was  a 
very  old  woman.  She  had  been  a  nurse  of  a  great  Richmond 
lawyer  whose  name  has  died  out  of  my  memory.  He  owed  his 
conversion  to  her.     He  was  famous  in  the  days  of  Webster." 

We  have  lying  before  us  as  weVrite  a  little  leather-covered 
account-book,  soiled  and  worn  by  use,  which  has  upon  its  first 
pages  letters  from  various  humanitarians — William  Lloyd  Gar- 
rison being  among  the  number — recommending  to  the  Christian 
public  one  Pomona  Brice,  who  "is  engaged  in  collecting  money  to 
secure  the  ransom  of  her  daughter  and  two  grandchildren  who 
are  scattered  somewhere  in  North  Carolina,  Mississippi,  Ala- 
bama, and  Missouri."  The  names  of  subscribers  follow,  with  the 
sums  subscribed — ranging  from  twenty-five  cents  to  ten  dollars — 
among  which  stands  the  familiar  autograph  "  H.  W.  Beecher,  if 
the  whole  is  made  up,  five  dollars."  Receipts  from  the  different 
savings-banks  where  she  had.  deposited  the  money  ;  a  letter  from 
her  lawyer  to  Mr.  Beecher  telling  him  that  at  her  request  he 
had  examined  the  laws  of  the  above-mentioned  States,  and  found 
them  all  against  her ;  a  bill  for  his  services  and  a  judgment  of  the 
court  against  her  for  $100,  all  either  directed  or  entrusted  to  Mr. 
Beecher,  give  us  an  inkling  of  another  kind  of  work  that  wore 
upon  his  time,  sympathy,  and  purse. 

Not  only  did  he  help  by  his  subscriptions  some  poor  mother 
or  grandmother  to  buy  the  liberty  of  her  children  or  grand- 
children, but  sometimes  brought  the  slave  upon  Plymouth  pulpit 


294  REV-  HENRY   WARD  BEE  CHER. 

and  raised  the  money  for  its  redemption  on  the  spot.  A  hand- 
ful of  letters  in  our  possession  gives  the  preliminaries  to  such  a 
transaction. 

One  is  from  a  Mr.  Blake,  who  has  called  on  the  "  nigger 
trader  "  and  obtained  the  refusal  of  the  child  for  $900,  and  has 
also  "  obtained  four  or  five  good  names  to  a  bond  for  the  pay- 
ment of  the  money  or  return  of  the  child.  When  I  told  the 
grandmother  what  I  had  done  the  poor  old  soul  cried  for  joy. 
1  God  bless  you ! '  she  said.  '  I  will  sit  up  all  night  to  get  you 
some  breakfast.  You  have  saved  my  child.'  "  Then  comes  a 
hitch  in  the  proceedings.     A  partner  to  the  trader  before  spoken 

of   appeared.      He    hated  "  the  d Abolitionists,  and  would 

not  let  the  child  go  among  them."  "  Do  you  not  think  some- 
thing could  be  done  without  the  child  ?  She  has  light  flaxen 
hair.  Her  owner  said  I  would  easily  get  her  on  the  cars,  for  no 
one  would  know  her  from  a  white  child  The  grandmother  has 
purchased  herself.  She  has  also  saved  up  about  §200  to  sup- 
port her  in  her  old  age.  She  is  willing  to  give  this.  If  we  take 
it  we  shall  want  §700  more.  If  you  can  do  anything,  in  God's 
name  do  it  and  save  the  child. 

"G.  Faulkner  Blake." 

In  some  way,  the  letters  do  not  tell  us  how,  the  difficulties 
were  overcome.  The  permission  of  the  joint  owners  of  this  flax- 
en-haired girl  was  obtained,  bonds  were  given  to  the  railroads  as 
well  as  the  owners  to  secure  them  from  loss  in  case  this  property 
should  not  be  returned,  and  the  child  was  brought  to  the  auction- 
block  of  Plymouth  pulpit  and  was  bought  for  liberty. 

The  following  is  Mr.  Beecher's  farther  account  of  this  matter  : 
"Before  the  passage  of  the  Red  Sea,  before  the  escape  of  the 
Israelites  (in  this  country,  not  in  Egypt),  I  was  accustomed,  from 
time  to  time,  to  buy  slaves  here  ;  and  it  was  thrown  up  that  this 
was  one  of  the  best  slave-auction  places  anywhere  to  be  found — 
that  better  prices  were  obtained  for  slaves  that  were  put  up  for 
sale  here  than  for  any  others.  Some  thought  there  was  an  in- 
consistency in  it.  I  did  not.  I  was  always  glad,  at  suitable 
times,  as  often  as  was  proper,  to  bring  before  you  living  men  and 
women,  and  let  them  stand  and  look  you  in  the  face,  that  you 
might  see  what  sort  of  creatures  slaves  were  made  of.  I  was 
glad  by  every  means  in  my  power  to  arouse  men's  feelings 
against  the  abomination  of  slavery,  which  I  hated  with  an  unut- 


296  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

terable  hatred,  and  which  I  hate  still  in  memory  as  much  as  then 
I  hated  it  in  substance  and  in  fact. 

"  Well,  at  one  time  there  was  a  girl  named  '  Pink,'  or  '  Pinky,' 
brought  here.  She  came  through  the  agency  of  G.  Faulkner 
Blake,  a  brother  of  one  of  our  own  members.  He  was  studying 
in  the  Episcopal  Seminary  at  Alexandria,  I  believe.  He  learned 
from  her  old  grandmother  that  'Pinky,'  who  was  too  fair  and 
beautiful  a  child  for  her  own  good,  was  to  be  taken  away  from 
the  grandmother  and   sent  South. 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  those  interested  in  the  girl 
wrote  me  to  see  if  I  could  purchase  her.  I  replied,  '  I  cannot 
unless  you  send  her  North '  ;  and  there  was  trouble  in  bringing 
her  here.  I  wrote  that  I  would  be  responsible  for  her,  and  that 
she  would  be  lawfully  purchased  or  sent  back. 

"  I  remember  that  the  pen-keeper  paid  me  a  compliment 
which  I  shall  never  forget,  by  saying  that  if  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
had  given  his  word  he  considered  it  better  than  a  bond.  So  she 
was  brought  here  and  placed  upon  this  platform  ;  and  the  rain 
never  fell  faster  than  the  tears  fell  from  many  of  you  that  were 
here.  The  scene  was  one  of  intense  enthusiasm.  The  child  was 
bought,  and  overbought.  The  collection  that  was  taken  on  the 
spot  was  enough,  and  more  than  enough,  to  purchase  her.  It  so 
happened  (it  is  not  wrong'  to  mention  now)  that  a  lady  known 
to  literary  fame  as  Miss  Rose  Terry  was  present  ;  and  as,  like 
many  others,  she  had  not  with  her  as  much  money  as  she  wanted 
to  give,  she  took  a  ring  off  from  her  hand  and  threw  it  into  the 
contribution-box.  That  ring  I  took  and  put  on  the  child's  hand, 
and  said  to  her,  '  Now  remember  that  this  is  your  freedom-ring.' 
Her  expression,  as  she  stood  and  looked  at  it  for  a  moment,  was 
pleasing  to  behold;  and  Eastman  Johnson,  the  artist,  was  so 
much  interested  in  the  occurrence  that  he  determined  to  repre- 
sent it  on  canvas,  and  he  painted  her  looking  at  her  freedom- 
ring  ;  and  I  have  a  transcript  of  the  picture  now  at  my  house  in 
the  parlor,  and  any  of  you  can  see  it  by  asking. 

"  So  the  girl  was  redeemed.  She  went  back  South  after  her 
redemption  ;  but  she  was  in  the  North  for  a  time  and  received 
some  rudiments  of  education.  At  length  I  lost  sight  of  her  until 
1864,  I  think,  when  she  was  at  Chief- Justice  Chase's,  and  I  re- 
ceived word  that  she  wished  to  see  me. 

"  It   seems    that  '  Pinky '  was  not    a  good    enough    name  for 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  297 

her  when  she  was  tree,  though  it  was  when  she  was  a  slave  . 
they  mixed  things  and  called  her  '  Ward,'  after  my  name,  and 
'  Rose,'  after  the  name  of  this  lady;  and  ever  since  her  name 
has  been  Rose  Ward — a  very  nice  name  indeed.  She  then  had 
grown  to  be  a  young  woman,  and  was  very  fair.  I  Blipposed  she 
would  probably  live  and  die  in  labor  to  support  herself  and  her 
grandmother,  who  was  becoming  infirm  ;  but  it  seems  that  she 
has  shown  uncommon  intelligence,  and  has  manifested  a  very 
earnest  desire  to  become  a  laborer  for  her  people,  and  she  is  to 
be  educated  and  to  become  a  teacher  and  missionary  among 
them. 

'•  Now,  it  suits  me  exactly  to  have  this  child  brought  out  of 
slavery,  redeemed  on  this  platform,  and  grow  up  and  develop  a 
Christian  disposition,  and  go  back  and  labor  for  her  people.  She 
does  not  know  anything  about  it,  but  if  we  can  raise  §150  she 
shall  have  a  year's  schooling  in  the  Lincoln  University  at  Wash- 
ington. It  seems  to  me  as  though  there  was  poetic  justice  and 
fitness  in  it.  As  you  redeemed  her  in  the  first  instance  from 
slavery,  in  the  second  instance  you  must  redeem  her  from  igno- 
rance by  contributing  the  amount  necessary  to  send  her  a  year  to 
that  university."     And  it  was  done. 

An  account  of  another  is  found  in   the  weekly  press  : 

"  Slave  Made  Free  in  Plymouth   Church,  June   i,  1856. — 

"  There  wras  never  a  more  thrilling  exemplification  of  Gospel 
principles  than  last  Sabbath  morning,  June  1,  in  Rev.  H.  W. 
Beecher's  church,  Brooklyn.  Mr.  Beecher  preached  from  Luke 
x.  27. 

"  Just  after  announcing  the  last  hymn  he  stepped  to  the  plat- 
form and  said  :  '  I  am  about  to  do  a  thing  which  I  am  not  wont 
to  do,  which  I  have  never  done  before  upon  this  day  ;  and,  in 
order  that  you  may  have  no  scruples  about  it,  I  will  preface  it  by 
reading  what  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  says  of  the  Sabbath  and  its 
duties  :  "  And  it  came  to  pass  also  on  another  Sabbath  that 
He  entered  into  the  synagogue  and  taught  :  and  there  was  a 
man  whose  right  hand  was  withered.  .  .  .  And  He  said  to  the 
man  which  had  the  withered  hand,  Rise  up,  and  stand  forth  in 
the  midst.  And  he  arose  and  stood  forth.  Then  said  Jesus  unto 
them,  I  will  ask  you  one  thing  :  Is  it  lawful  on  the  Sabbath  days 
to  do  good,  or  to  do  evil  ?  to  save  life,  or  to  destroy  it  ?    And  look- 


298  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ing  around  about  upon  them  all,  He  said  unto  the  man,  Stretch 
forth  thy  hand.  And  he  did  so;  and  his  hand  was  restored  whole 
as  the  other." 

"  '  Some  two  weeks  since  I  had  a  letter  from  Washington 
informing  me  that  a  young  woman  had  been  sold  by  her  own 
father  to  go  South — for  what  purpose  you  can  imagine  when  you 
see  her.  She  was  purchased  by  a  slave-trader  for  $1,200  ;  and 
he,  knowing  her  previous  character  and  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  was  so  moved  with  compassion  that  he  offered  to  give  her 
an  opportunity  to  purchase  her  freedom.  He  himself  gave 
towards  it  §100,  and  persuaded  a  friend  and  another  slave-trader 
to  give  each  §100  more.  So  much  of  good  is  there  in  the  lowest 
of  men  !  He  allowed  her  to  go  to  Washington  to  solicit  aid  from 
the  Free- State  men  there,  and  she  succeeded  in  obtaining  $400 
more.  I  was  then  applied  to,  to  know  if  we  would  do  anything 
to  raise  the  remaining  $500.  I  answered  we  would  do  nothing 
unless  the  woman  could  come  here.  After  much  hesitation  on 
the  part  of  her  master  she  was  allowed  to  visit  New  York,  giving 
her  word  of  honor  that  she  would  return  to  Richmond  if  the 
money  were  not  raised  '  ;  and,  going  to  the  platform  stairs,  '  Come 
up  here,  Sarah,  and  let  us  all  see  you,'  said  he. 

"A  young  woman  rose  from  an  adjacent  seat,  and,  ascending 
the  steps,  sank  down,  embarrassed  and  apparently  overcome  by 
her  feelings,  in  the  nearest  chair.  She  was  of  medium  size  and 
neatly  dressed.  The  white  blood  of  her  father  might  be  traced 
in  her  regular  features  and  high,  thoughtful  brow,  while  her 
complexion  and  wavy  hair  betrayed  her  slave  mother.  'And 
this,'  said  Mr.  Beecher,  'is  a  marketable  commoditv.  Such  as 
she  are  put  into  one  balance  and  silver  into  the  other.  She  is 
now  legally  free,  but  she  is  bound  by  a  moral  obligation  which 
is  stronger  than  any  law.  I  reverence  woman.  For  the  sake  of 
the  love  I  bore  my  mother  I  hold  her  sacred,  even  in  the  lowest 
position,  and  will  use  every  means  in  my  power  for  her  uplifting. 
What  will  you  do  now?  May  she  read  her  liberty  in  your  eyes? 
Shall  she  go  out  free  ?  Christ  stretched  forth  His  hand  and  the 
sick  were  restored  to  health  ;  will  you  stretch  forth  your  hands 
and  give  her  that  without  which  life  is  of  little  worth  ?  Let  the 
plates  be  passed  and  we  will  see  ! '  There  was  hardly  a  dry  eye 
in  the  church ;  and  amidst  tears  and  earnest  lookings  at  the  poor 
woman,  who  sat   with  downcast  eyes,  the  plates  went    around. 


rev.  henrv  ward  bmecher.  299 

Every  pUrsfi  was  in  requisition,  ami  as  the  bills  were  thrown 
down  Mr.  Beecher  said  :  '  1  see  the  plates  are  heaping  up.  Re- 
member every  dollar  you  give  is  the  step  of  a  weary  pilgrim  to- 
ward liberty,  and  that  Christ  has  said  :  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  have 
done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  ye  have  done  it  unto  Me  !'" 
At  this  Mr.  Lewis  Tappan  rose  and  said,  'There  need  be  no  anx- 
iety about  the  matter  ;  some  gentlemen  had  just  now  pledged 
themselves  to  make  up  the  deficiency,  whatever  it  might  be.' 

M  Then  she  was  free  !  And  when  Mr.  Beecher  told  her  so  and 
announced  it  to  the  great  congregation,  there  was  an  involuntary 
burst  of  applause.  It  was  in  the  church,  upon  the  Sabbath  day, 
but  it  was  no  desecration — rather  it  was  echoed  by  richer  ac- 
clamation in  heaven  !  As  it  subsided  Mr.  Beecher  said  :  '  When 
the  old  Jews  went  up  to  their  solemn  feasts  they  made  the  moun- 
tains round  about  Jerusalem  ring  with  their  shouts.  I  do  not 
approve  of  an  unholy  clapping  in  the  house  of  God,  but  when  a 
good  deed  is  well  done  it  is  not  wrong  to  give  an  outward  ex- 
pression of  our  joy.   .  .  .' 

"  He  then  read  the  closing  hymn,  saying,  as  he  handed  her 
the  book,  '  We  shall  sing  this  hymn  as  we  never  have  sung  a  hymn 
before,  and  she  will  sing  it  too.'     This  was  the  hymn  : 

"  '  Do  not  I  love  Thee,  O  my  Lord  ? 

Behold  my  heart  and  see  ; 

And  turn  the  dearest  idol  out 

That  dares  to  rival  Thee.' 

"  *  Hast  Thou  a  lamb  in  all  Thy  flock 
I  would  disdain  to  feed? 
Hast  Thou  a  foe  before  whose  face 
I  fear  Thy  cause  to  plead  ?' 


"The  blessing  was  pronounced  and  the  meeting  was  over; 
but  many  lingered  to  know  the  amount  of  the  contribution,  and 
when  it  was  found  that  $783  had  been  raised,  so  that  not  only 
she  but  her  child  of  two  years  old  could  be  redeemed,  the  ap- 
plause burst  forth  anew. 

"  In  the  plates  were  several  articles  of  jewelry,  thrown  in  by 
those  who  had  no  money  with  them  or  were  unable  to  give  any- 
thing else. 


300  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

"  Thus  may  Plymouth  Church  be  consecrated.  Verily  '  it  is 
lawful  to  do  good  on  the  Sabbath  day.'  " 

A  handful  of  photographs  of  children,  white  and  beautiful, 
who  had  been  set  free,  have  come  to  my  hand  with  the  above  let- 
ters. Having  to  do  with  white-faced,  flaxen-haired  children  born 
under  the  curse  of  slavery  ;  with  mothers  carrying  their  little  ac- 
count-books from  house  to  house,  gathering  funds  wherewith  to 
accomplish  the  apparently  hopeless  task  of  first  finding  their  chil- 
dren who  had  been  swept  away  from  them  in  the  black  maelstrom 
of  slavery,  and  then  of  purchasing  them  ;  of  grandmothers  who 
wept  for  joy  at  the  prospect  of  saving  their  grandchildren,  and 
willingly  surrendered  all  the  money  which  they  had  laid  aside  for 
their  old  age  if  it  could  be  accomplished,  would  make  a  man 
tender  toward  the  victims  and  hard  against  the  system  which 
caused  their  trouble. 

Through  this  course  of  training  he  walked  in  these  years,  his 
heart  now  dissolved  in  tears  and  now  hot  with  righteous  indigna- 
tion. No  compromise,  no  surrender,  no  betrayal,  no  yielding, 
but  the  destruction  of  slavery  and  the  salvation  of  the  Union. 

The  Kansas  and  Nebraska  troubles  had  resulted  in  more  than 
establishing  certain  theories  or  in  deciding  the  status  of  portions 
of  our  territory.  It  had  intensified  the  feeling  in  both  sections  of 
our  country,  and  men  were  being  irreconcilably  divided  upon  the 
subject  of  slavery.  Out  of  these  troublous  times  sprang  John 
Brown,  originally  a  farmer,  born  in  the  northern  part  of  Con- 
necticut, and  emigrating  to  Ohio  when  a  child.  In  1854  his  four 
elder  sons  migrated  to  Kansas,  joining  with  the  thousands  from 
the  North  to  make  that  a  free  State  and  to  secure  homes  for 
themselves  and  their  families.  Plundered  and  harassed,  they 
wrote  to  their  father  to  procure  arms.  To  make  sure  that  they 
should  get  these  he  went  with  them.  This  was  his  introduction 
into  Kansas.  We  have  no  design  of  following  out  his  history  in 
detail,  but  only  claim  that  his  fanatical  zeal  and  his  unreasonable 
expectations  were  the  product  of  the  times  in  which  he  lived  and 
the  experiences  which  he  suffered,  acting  upon  a  temperament 
peculiarly  unselfish,  heroic,  and  religious.  Enough  for  us  is  it  to 
know  that  his  course  led  him,  with  an  army  of  sixteen  men,  to  the 
capture  of  Harper's  Ferry  and  to  a  conflict  with  the  whole  State 
of  Virginia,  in  fact  with  the  power  of  the  whole  United  States 
government,  and    ultimately   to  the  scaffold.      His  courage,  his 


i 


REV,  HENRY  WARD   BEECHER.  30I 

calmness,  his  nndoubting  faith  in  the  future  deliverance  of  the 

slaves,  crowned  by  his  heroic  death,  made  his  name  the  war-cry 
of  the  future  legions  of  the  loyal  States,  who  sang  as  they 
marched  : 

"  John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mouldering  in  the  grave, 
John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mouldering  in  the  grave, 
But  his  soul  is  marching  on." 

0 

.  The  attack  on  Harper's  Ferry  was  made  October  17.  On 
Sunday  evening,  October  30,  Henry  Ward  Beecher  preached  upon 
"  The  Harper's  Ferry  Tragedy,"  and  gives  his  judgment  of  the 
principal  actor  in  the  following  language  : 

"  An  old  man,  kind  at  heart,  industrious,  peaceful,  went  forth 
with  a  large  family  of  children,  to  seek  a  new  home  in  Kansas. 
That  infant  colony  held  thousands  of  souls  as  noble  as  liberty 
ever  inspired  or  religion  enriched.  A  great  scowling  slave  State, 
its  nearest  neighbor,  sought  to  tread  down  this  liberty-loving 
colony  and  to  dragoon  slavery  into  it  by  force  of  arms.  The 
armed  citizens  of  another  State  crossed  the  State  lines,  destroyed 
the  freedom  of  the  ballot-box,  prevented  a  fair  expression  of  pub- 
lic sentiment,  corruptly  usurped  law-making  power  and  ordained 
by  fraud  laws  as  infamous  as  the  sun  ever  saw,  assaulted  its  in- 
fant settlements  with  armed  hordes,  ravaged  the  fields,  destroyed 
harvests  and  herds,  and  carried  death  to  a  multitude  of  cabins. 
The  United  States  government  had  no  marines  for  this  occasion  ! 
No  Federal  troops  were  posted  by  cars  night  and  day  for  the 
poor,  the  wreak,  the  grossly-wronged  men  in  Kansas.  There  was 
an  army  there  that  unfurled  the  banner  of  the  Union,  but  it  was 
on  the  side  of  the  wrong-doers,  not  on  the  side  of  the  injured. 

"  It  was  in  this  field  that  Brown  received  his  impulse.  A  ten- 
der father,  whose  life  was  in  his  sons'  life,  he  saw  his  first-born 
seized  like  a  felon,  chained,  driven  across  the  country,  crazed  by 
suffering  and  heat,  beaten  by  the  officer  in  charge  like  a  dog,  and 
long  lying  at  death's  door  !  Another  noble  boy,  without  warning, 
without  offence,  unarmed,  in  open  day,  in  the  midst  of  the  city, 
was  shot  dead  !  No  justice  sought  out  the  murderers.  No 
United  States  attorney  was  despatched  in  hot  haste.  No  marines 
or  soldiers  aided  the  wronged  and  w^eak  ! 

"  The  shot  that  struck  the  child's  heart  crazed  the  father's 
brain.     Revolving  his  wrongs   and   nursing  his    hatred   of    that 


302  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

deadly  system  that  breeds  such  contempt  of  justice  and  humani- 
ty, at  length  his  phantoms  assume  a  slender  form  and  organize 
such  an  enterprise  as  one  might  expect  from  a  man  whom  grief 
had  bereft  of  good  judgment.  He  goes  to  the  heart  of  a  slave 
State  :  one  man — and  sixteen  followers  !  He  seizes  two  thousand 
brave  Virginians  and  holds  them  in  duress. 

"When  a  great  State  attacked  a  handful  of  weak  colonies  the 
government  and  nation  were  torpid  ;  but  when  seventeen  men 
attacked  a  sovereign  State,  then  Maryland  arms,  and  Virginia 
arms,  and  the  United  States  government  arms,  and  they  three 
rush  against  seventeen  men  ! 

"  Travellers  tell  us  that  the  Geysers  of  Iceland — those  singular 
boiling  springs  of  the  North — may  be  transported  with  fury  by 
plucking  up  a  handful  of  grass  or  turf  and  throwing  them  into 
the  springs.  The  hot  springs  of  Virginia  are  of  the  same  kind  ! 
A  handful  of  men  was  thrown  into  them,  and  what  a  boiling  there 
has  been  ! 

"  But  meanwhile  no  one  can  fail  to  see  that  this  poor,  child- 
bereft  old  man  is  the  manliest  of  them  all.  Bold,  unflinching, 
honest,  without  deceit  or  dodge,  refusing  to  take  technical  advan- 
tages of  any  sort,  but  openly  avowing  his  principles  and  motives, 
glorying  in  them  in  danger  and  death  as  much  as  when  in  securi- 
ty— that  wounded  old  father  is  the  most  remarkable  figure  in  this 
whole  drama.  The  governor,  the  officers  of  the  State,  and  all 
the  attorneys  are  pigmies  compared  to  him. 

"  I  deplore  his  misfortunes.  I  sympathize  with  his  sorrows. 
I  mourn  the  hiding  or  obscuration  of  his  reason.  I  disapprove 
of  his  mad  and  feeble  schemes.  I  shrink  from  the  folly  of  the 
bloody  foray,  and  I  shrink,  likewise,  from  all  the  anticipations  of 
that  judicial  bloodshed  which,  doubtless,  ere  long  will  follow — for 
when  was  cowardice  ever  magnanimous  ?  They  will  kill  the  man, 
not  for  treason,  but  for  proving  them  cowards  ! 

"  By  and  by,  when  men  look  back  and  see  without  prejudice 
that  whole  scene,  they  will  not  be  able  to  avoid  saying:  'What 
must  be  the  measure  of  manhood  in  a  scene  where  a  crazed  old 
man  stood  head  and  shoulders  above  those  who  had  their  whole 
reason  ?     What  is  average  citizenship  when  a  lunatic  is  a  hero?' " 

He  also  availed  himself  of  this  opportunity  to  show  the  wrong 
way  and  the  right  way  in  our  treatment  of  this  whole  question 
of  slavery.     I  can  only  mention  the  heads,  but  they  so  far  outline 


REV,  HENRY  WARD   BEECHER,  303 

Ins  whole  principle  pi  action  during  the  war  that  I  give  them  that 
his  position  may  be  understood  : 

"  1  st.  We  have  no  right  to  treat  the  citizens  of  the  South  with 
acrimony  and  bitterness  because  they  are  involved  in  a  system  of 
wrrong-doing." 

"2d.  The  breeding  of    discontent    among    the   bondmen  of 

our  land  i>  not  the  way  to  help  them." 

"  jd.  No  relief  will  be  carried  to  the  slaves  or  to  the  South  as 
a  body  by  any  individual  or  organized  plans  to  carry  them  off  or 
to  incite  them  to  abscond." 

As  to  the  right  way  : 

11  1  st.  If  we  would  benefit  the  African  at  the  South  we  must 
begin  at  home.  No  one  can  fail  to  see  the  inconsistency  between 
our  treatment  of  those  amongst  us  who  are  in  the  lower  walks  of 
life  and  our  professions  of  sympathy  for  the  Southern  slaves. 
How  are  the  free  colored  people  treated  at  the  North  ?  They 
are  almost  without  education,  with  but  little  sympathy  for  igno- 
rance. They  are  refused  the  common  rights  of  citizenship  which 
the  whites  enjoy.  They  cannot  even  ride  in  the  cars  of  our  city 
railroads.  They  are  snuffed  at  in  the  house  of  God,  or  tolerated 
with  ill-disguised  disgust.  Can  the  black  man  be  a  mason  in 
New  York  ?  Let  him  be  employed  as  a  journeyman,  and  every 
Irish  lover  of  liberty  that  carries  the  hod  or  trowel  would  leave 
at  once  or  compel  him  to  leave !  Can  the  black  man  be  a  car- 
penter ?  There  is  scarcely  a  carpenter's  shop  in  New  York  in 
which  a  journeyman  would  continue  to  work  if  a  black  man  were 
employed  in  it.  Can  the  black  man  compete  in  the  common  in- 
dustries of  life  ?  There  is  scarcely  one  in  which  he  can  engage. 
He  is  crowded  down,  down,  down,  through  the  most  menial  call- 
ings, to  the  bottom  of  society.  We  tax  them,  and  then  refuse  to 
allow  their  children  to  go  to  our  public  schools.  We  tax  them, 
and  then  refuse  to  sit  by  them  in  God's  house.  We  heap  upon 
them  moral  obloquy  more  atrocious  than  that  which  the  master 
heaps  upon  the  slave." 

"  2d.  We  must  quicken  all  the  springs  of  feeling  in  the  free 
States  in  behalf  of  human  liberty,  and  create  a  public  sentiment 
based  upon  truth  and  true  manhood." 

"3d.  By  all  the  ways  consistent  with  a  fearless  assertion  of 
truth,  we  must  maintain  sympathy  and  kindness  toward  the  South. 
If,  in  view  of  the  wrongs  of  slavery,  you  say  that  you  do  not  care 


304  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

for  the  master  but  only  the  slave,  I  reply  that  you  should  care 
for  both  master  and  slave  !  If  you  do  not  care  for  the  fate  of  the 
wrong-doing  white  man,  /  do  care  for  the  fate  of  the  wrong-do- 
ing white  man  !  But  even  though  your  sympathy  were  only  for 
the  slave,  then  for  his  sake  you  ought  to  set  your  face  against, 
and  discountenance  anything  like,  an  insurrectionary  spirit." 

"  4th.  We  are  to  leave  no  pains  untaken,  through  the  Christian 
conscience  of  the  South,  to  give  to  the  slave  himself  a  higher 
moral  status." 

"  5th.  The  few  virtues  which  shall  lead  inevitably  to  eman- 
cipation are  to  be  established  and  insisted  upon — the  right 
of  chastity  in  the  woman,  unblemished  household  love,  and  the 
right  of  parents  to  their  children.  The  moment  these  three 
stand  secure,  that  moment  slavery  will  have  its  death-blow 
struck." 

"  6th.  And,  lastly,  among  the  means  to  be  employed  for  pro- 
moting the  liberty  of  the  slave  we  must  not  fail  to  include  the 
power  of  true  Christian  prayer.  When  slavery  shall  cease  it 
will  be  by  such  instruments  and  influences  that  shall  exhibit 
God's  hand  and  heart  in  the  work.  May  He,  in  His  own  way 
and  time,  speed  the  day  ! " 

With  such  radical  yet  conservative  and  kindly  speech,  bring- 
ing home  to  his  audience  their  own  deficiencies  and  pointing  out 
the  way  that  must  be  taken,  did  he  temper  and  direct  the  hot 
passion  of  those  fiery  days. 

The  heat  occasioned  by  the  John  Brown  raid  in  the  fall  of 
1859  was  not  cooled  by  the  after-events  that  occurred  both  in  and 
out  of  Congress  during  the  following  winter  ;  and  the  country 
came  to  nominating  its  candidates  in  i860  in  a  state  of  the  most 
intense  feeling.  Four  parties  were  in  the  field,  each  representing 
as  its  essential  characteristic  some  phase  of  feeling  towards  sla- 
very. Among  them  stood  the  Republican  party,  with  a  well- 
defined  purpose,  clearly  understood  and  openly  declared — no 
interference  with  and  no  extension  of  slavery.  Abraham  Lincoln 
was  its  nominee  for  President.  Mr.  Beecher  had  met  him  in 
1859  when  he  came  to  New  York  to  deliver  his  speech  at  Cooper 
Institute,  and,  with  his  quick  perception  of  the  ability  of  men, 
and  already  well  acquainted  with  his  record,  had  placed  confi- 
dence in  this  tall,  gaunt  Westerner  from  the  first.  He  had 
doubted    the  policy  of  nominating  Mr.  Seward,  and  one  of  his 


HENR  Y   WARD   BEECHER, 


305 


first  interviews  with  a  member  oi  the  New  York  delegation,  who 
had  labored  earnestly  but  vainly  tor  his  nomination,  is  thus  de- 
scribed :  "  With  a  laugh  that  was  almost  a  roar  he  burst  into  the 
editorial  room  where  Mr.  Raymond  sat,  his  chair  tilted  upon  its 
two  tore  legs,  and,  grasping  him  eordially,  heartily,  vigorously, 
said  :  '  Young  man,  I  know  the  people  of  this  country  at  heart 
better  than  you  do.  Your  friend  Seward  has  too  much  head 
and  too  little  heart  to  sueeeed  in  any  sueh  crisis  as  this.' 

"  '  And  yours,'  replied  Mr.  Raymond,  'I  fear,  has  too  much 
heart  and  too  little  head  for  such  a  crisis  as  will  assuredly  be  pre- 
cipitated.1 

1  Trust,  then,'  replied  Mr.  Beecher,  'in  God,  and  keep  your 
powder  dry.'  " 

For  the  election  of  their  nominee  Mr.  Beecher  labored  with 
pen  and  voiee  to  the  utmost  of  his  ability.  His  sermons  Sunday 
evenings  often  had  reference  to  the  great  questions  of  the  day. 
His  lectures  of  this  period  were  little  more  than  political  ad- 
dresses, and  by  his  Star  Papers  in  the  Ifidepetident,  which  were 
largely  copied  in  other  papers,  he  made  his  views  known  to  the 
reading  public  throughout  the  land.  Believing  that  the  election 
of  Abraham  Lincoln  was  of  the  utmost  importance,  he  gave  him- 
self unreservedly  to  make  it  an  accomplished  fact,  and  made  him- 
self as  obnoxious  to  the  timid  and  time-serving  as  he  was  ad- 
mirable to  the  opposite  party.  Of  this  period  he  says  :  "We  next 
had  to  flounder  through  the  quicksands  of  four  infamous  years 
tinder  President  Buchanan,  in  which  senators  sworn  to  the  Con- 
stitution were  plotting  to  destroy  that  Constitution  ;  in  which  the 
members  of  the  Cabinet,  who  drew  their  pay  month  by  month, 
used  their  official  position,  by  breach  of  public  trust  and  oath  of 
allegiance,  to  steal  arms,  to  prepare  fortifications,  and  make  ready 
disruption  and  war.  The  most  astounding  spectacle  the  world 
ever  saw  was  then  witnessed — a  great  people  paying  men  to  sit 
in  the  places  of  power  and  offices  of  trust  to  betray  them." 

Most  portentous  events  followed  the  election.  State  after 
State  in  the  South  called  their  conventions  and  passed  decrees 
of  secession,  in  every  case,  except  in  South  Carolina,  by  the  jug- 
glery of  political  leaders,  in  spite  of  the  popular  vote.  Repre- 
sentatives withdrew  from  the  House,  senators  from  the  Senate, 
and  members  from  the  Cabinet,  and  flocked  to  Montgomery, 
Ga.,  where  a  rebel  government  was  being  organized.     The  most 


306  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

specious  arguments  were  urged  in  justification  of  secession,  were 
substantially  admitted  even  by  so  excellent  an  authority  as  the 
New  York  Tribune,  and  the  right  to  coerce  a  sovereign  State,  as 
well  as  the  expediency  of  the  attempt,  was  denied  by  a  large  por- 
tion of  the  Northern  press.  Preparations  to  make  secession 
successful,  if  resisted,  were  made  openly,  while  the  denial  of  the 
right  to  prevent  the  same  tied  the  hands  of  the  government  and 
left  it  powerless  in  the  toils  of  its  enemies.  In  the  meantime 
different  schemes  of  conciliation,  all  amounting  to  some  species 
of  concession  or  compromise,  were  advanced  both  in  and  out 
of  Congress,  and  urged  to  the  very  utmost  possible  limit  of 
forbearance  and  kindness.  Against  "  peace  at  any  price  "  and 
all  patched-up  compromises  Mr.  Beecher,  together  with  a  multi- 
tude of  others  of  like  feeling  at  the  North,  threw  his  influence. 

His  Thanksgiving  sermon  this  year  was  upon  this  topic : 
"Against  a  Compromise  of  Principle."  He  recounts  the  com- 
mon but  abundant  blessings  of  the  year,  and  gathers  assurance 
that  they  are  from  God  on  the  following  testimony  : 

"  All  the  sons  of  God  rejoice  and  all  good  men  rejoice.  It 
needs  but  one  element  to  complete  the  satisfaction.  If  we  could 
be  sure  that  this  is  God's  mercy,  meant  for  good  and  tending 
thereto,  we  should  have  a  full  cup  to-day.  That  satisfaction  is 
not  denied  us.  The  Mayor -of  New  York,  in  a  public  proclama- 
tion, in  view  of  this  prodigal  year  that  has  heaped  the  poor  man's 
house  with  abundance,  is  pleased  to  say  that  there  is  no  occasion 
apparent  to  him  for  thanksgiving.  We  can  ask  no  more.  When 
bad  men  grieve  at  the  state  of  public  affairs,  good  men  should 
rejoice.  When  infamous  men  keep  fast,  righteous  men  should 
have  thanksgiving.  God  reigns  and  the  devil  trembles.  Amen. 
Let  us  rejoice  !  " 

He  then  describes  the  true  nature  of  the  compromise  that  is 
asked,  and  shows  the  impossibility  of  making  any  that  shall  be 
satisfactory  to  either  side  : 

"  We  are  told  that  Satan  appears  under  two  forms — that  when 
he  has  a  good,  fair  field  he  is  out  like  a  lion,  roaring  and  seeking 
whom  he  may  devour  ;  but  that  when  he  can  do  nothing  more  in 
that  way  he  is  a  serpent  and  sneaks  in  the  grass.  And  so  it  is 
slavery  open,  bold,  roaring,  aggressive,  or  it  is  slavery  sneaking 
in  the  grass  and  calling  itself  compromise.  It  is  the  same  devil 
under  either  name.    If  by  compromise  is  only  meant  forbearance, 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  307 

kindness,  well-wishing,  conciliation,  fidelity  to  agreements,  a  <  '->\\- 
cession  in  things,  not  principles,  why  then  we  believe  in  compro- 
mise, only  that  is  not  compromise,  interpreted  by  the  facts  of  our 
past  history. 

"We  honestly  wish  no  harm   to   the   Smith    or   its   people;    we 

honestly  wish  them  all  benefit.     We  will  defend  her  coast;  we 

will  guard  her  inland  border  from  all  vexations  from  without;  and 
in  good  faith,  in  earnest  friendship,  in  fealty  to  the  Constitution, 
and  in  fellowship  with  the  States,  we  will,  and  with  growing  ear- 
nestness to  the  end,  fulfil  every  just  duty,  every  honorable  agree- 
ment, and  every  generous  act  within  the  limits  of  truth  and  honor; 
all  that  and  no  more — no  more  though  the  heavens  fall  ;  no  more 
if  States  unclasp  their  hands  ;  no  more  if  they  raise  up  violence 
against  us — no  more  !      We  have  gone  to  the  end." 

He  did  not  agree  with  Mr.  Lincoln  in  his  hope  that  the  South 
would  be  satisfied  by  the  careful  explanations  given  in  his  inaugu- 
ral, nor  with  Mr.  Seward  in  his  expectation  that  the  difficulty 
would  be  settled  in  ninety  days;  but  he  did  believe  with  all  his 
heart  that  God  was  in  the  work,  and  that  the  trouble  would  be 
settled  some  day,  and  that  it  would  be  settled  right.  In  the  tur- 
moil of  that  turbulent  time  his  mind  was  kept  in  perfect  peace, 
because  it  was  stayed  on  God. 

The  Republican  party  was  charged  with  having  brought 
about  this  unhappy  state  of  the  country.  This  charge  he  answers 
in  a  sermon  preached  January  4,  1861,  the  day  appointed  by 
President   Buchanan  for  Fasting  and  Prayer  : 

"What  is  the  errand  of  this  day?  Why  are  we  observing  a 
sad  Sabbath  ?  a  day  of  humiliation  ?  a  day  of  supplication  ?  It 
is  for  the  strangest  reason  the  world  ever  heard.  It  is  because 
the  spirit  of  liberty  has  so  increased  and  strengthened  among  us 
that  the  government  is  in  danger  of  being  overthrown  !  There 
never  before  was  such  an  occasion  for  fasting,  humiliation,  and 
prayer  !  Other  nations  have  gone  through  revolutions  for  their 
liberties  ;  we  are  on  the  eve  of  a  revolution  to  put  down  liberty  ! 
Other  people  have  thrown  off  their  governments  because  too  op- 
pressive ;  ours  is  to  be  destroyed,  if  at  all,  because  it  is  too  full 
of  liberty,  too  full  of  freedom.  There  never  was  such  an  event 
before  in  history.  .  .  .  Meanwhile  we  have  had  no  one  to  stand 
up  for  order.  Those  who  should  have  spoken  in  decisive  autho- 
rity have  been — afraid/     Severer  words  have  been  used  ;  it  is 


308  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

enough  for  me  to  say  only  that  in  a  time  when  God,  and  provi- 
dence, and  patriotism,  and  humanity  demanded  courage,  they 
had  no  response  but  fear.  The  heart  has  almost  ceased  to  beat, 
and  this  government  is  like  to  die  for  want  of  pulsations  at  the 
centre.  While  the  most  humiliating  fear  paralyzes  one  part  of  the 
government,  the  most  wicked  treachery  is  found  in  other  parts 
of  it." 

So  closes  in  shame  and  fear  the  second  era  of  the  great  con- 
flict. 

"  Buchanan's  Fast  "  marks  the  lowest  point  of  degradation 
the  government  of  the  United  States  ever  reached — a  point  of 
abject  fear  of  the  consequences  of  its  own  sins,  of  feeble  persis- 
tence in  them,  and  of  cowardice  in  applying  the  remedy  for  its 
trouble. 

Instead  of  abandoning  its  policy  of  falsehood  and  injustice, 
and  making  a  manly  use  of  the  means  still  at  hand  to  avert  the 
threatening  dangers,  it  held  to  its  course,  declared  that  it  could 
do  nothing  more  under  the  Constitution  than  to  advise  and  re- 
monstrate with  treason,  and  made  a  frantic  appeal  to  the  Chris- 
tians of  the  land  to  plead  with  Jehovah  to  save  it  from  the  inevi- 
table consequences  of  its  folly  and  wickedness. 

It  was  a  failure.  The  Call  of  the  President  to  his  kind  of 
Fast  awakened  little  response  from  the  people.  Another  Procla- 
mation was  ringing  in  their  ears.  It  was  that  of  the  old  prophet 
uttered  centuries  before.  "  Is  not  this  the  Fast  that  I  have 
chosen  ?  to  loose  the  bands  of  wickedness,  to  undo  the  heavy 
burdens,  and  to  let  the  oppressed  go  free,  and  that  ye  break  every 
yoke  ?  " 

This  Fast  of  the  Lord  was  rapidly  approaching,  and  for  it  the 
people  were  getting  ready. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

War  Begun— Firing  upon  Fort  Sumter— "  The  American  Eagle  as  you 
want  it  "—Death  of  Col.  Ellsworth— Equips  his  Sons— Personal  Feeling 
yields  to  Patriotism— His  House  a  Store-House  of  Military  Supplies 
—Sends  a  Regiment  as  his  Substitute— Our  National  Flag— The  Camp, 
its  Dangers  and  Duties — Bull  Run— Becomes  Editor  ol  the  lndcpcn- 
dent—  Salutatory— The  Trent  Affair— Fight,  Tax— Soldiers  or  Ferrets- 
Characteristics  as  an  Editor — One  Nation,  one  Constitution,  one  Starry 
Banner— McClellan  Safe,  and  Richmond  too— Mildly  Carrying  on 
War— The  Root  of  the  Matter— The  only  Ground— A  Queer  Pulpit- 
President's  Proclamation  of  Emancipation — Let  come  what  will- 
Close  of  the  Third  Era. 

FOR  five  months  the  daily  papers  had  borne  for  their  promi- 
nent headlines,  "  The  National  Crisis,"  "  Pro-Slavery  Rebel- 
lion," "  Pro-Slavery    Revolution,"    "  The   War-Cloud."     At 
length  the  issue  of  April  12,  1861,  was  headed,  "The  War  Com- 
menced :     The   first   Gun   fired    by  Fort   Moultrie   against  Fort 
Sumter  "  ;  the  next  day,  "  Fort    Sumter  Fallen." 

Mr.  Beecher  was  lecturing  in  Cincinnati  when  the  tidings 
came  North  of  the  bombardment  of  Fort  Sumter.  The  com- 
mittee who  had  charge  of  the  lecture  were  alarmed,  and,  remem- 
bering the  old  pro-slavery  riots  of  thirty  years  before,  declared 
that  it  would  be  unsafe  for  him  to  deliver  his  lecture.  He  told 
them  that  to  give  that  lecture  was  his  object  in  coming  to  Cin- 
cinnati, and  do  it  he  should  ;  if  not  in  a  hall,  then  on  the  public 
street.  With  many  misgivings  on  their  part,  he  was  permitted 
to  go  ahead,  but  so  great  was  the  fear  of  a  riot  that  few  attended. 
That  night  he  turned  his  steps  homeward.  Eager  to  learn  his 
opinion  of  the  matter,  we  met  him  on  the  doorsteps.  His  oldest 
son,  having  left  his  position  up  the  river,  had  stopped  at  a  recruit- 
ing station  on  Broadway,  already  opened,  and  enlisted,  and  had 
then  come  home.  Fearing  something  of  the  kind,  the  mother 
gave  strict  commands  that  he  should  not  leave  the  house  until  his 
father's  return — a  command  which  he  was  the  more  ready  to  obey 
since  the  business  had  already  been  attended  to.  Naturally  he 
felt  some  little  solicitude  as  to  what  his  father  should  say,  and  his 

3°j 


3  I O  BIOGRA PH  Y  OF 

first  words  were  :  "Father,  may  I  enlist?"  and  was  answered: 
"If  you  don't  I'll  disown  you." 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  The  report  of  his  sermon  was 
headed  thus  :  "  Henry  Ward  Beecher  on  the  Crisis  :  '  What  will 
you  do,  stand  still  or  go  forward  ? ' 

"  The  good  people  of  Brooklyn  have  shared  with  us  all  the 
fears  and  anxiety  of  the  past  weeks.  Yesterday  there  was,  if  pos- 
sible, a  more  dense  mass  of  human  beings  than  usual  packed 
within  the  walls  of  Plymouth  Church,  and  a  more  than  ordinary 
curiosity  on  the  part  of  strangers,  and  a  more  than  customary 
solemnity  pervading  the  congregation.  It  was  manifestly  the 
belief  of  all  there  that  the  pastor  would  not  fail  to  improve  the 
occasion  by  preaching  to  the  people  of  this  age  upon  the  duties 
of  the  present  trying  hour,  and  that  he  would  deal  with  so  grand 
a  subject  in  a  manner  befitting  its  character,  its  importance,  and 
its  universal  occupation  of  the  American  mind.  Nor  were  they 
disappointed.  Mr.  Beecher  delivered  a  sermon  from  the  text, 
'  Speak  to  the  children  of  Israel  that  they  go  forward.'  " 

The  above  appeared  in  one  of  the  daily  papers.  We  have  not 
time  to  give  the  synopsis  of  the  reporter.  The  sermon  was  a 
careful  review  of  the  present  condition  of  affairs  and  a  sober 
counting  the  cost  of  both  advance  and  retreat. 

"  Peace  can  be  had  by  two-thirds  of  the  nation  yielding  to 
the  one-third  ;  by  legalizing  the  right  of  any  discontented  com- 
munity to  rebel ;  by  changing  our  charter  of  universal  freedom 
into  a  charter  of  deliberate  oppression  ;  by  becoming  partners  in 
slavery  and  ratifying  this  gigantic  evil ;  by  surrendering  all  right 
of  discussion,  of  debate  or  criticism.  On  these  terms,"  he  said, 
"  we  may  have  peace. 

"  You  can  have  your  American  eagle  as  you  want  it.  If,  with 
the  South,  you  will  strike  out  his  eyes,  then  you  shall  stand  well 
with  Mr.  Davis  and  Mr.  Stephens,  of  the  Confederate  States  ;  if, 
with  the  Christians  of  the  South,  you  will  pluck  off  his  wings,  you 
shall  stand  well  with  the  Southern  churches  ;  and  if,  with  the  new 
peacemakers  that  have  risen  up  in  the  North,  you  will  pull  out 
his  tail-feathers,  you  shall  stand  well  with  the  Society  for  the  Pro- 
motion of  National  Unity  !  But  when  you  have  stricken  out  his 
eyes,  so  that  he  can  no  longer  see  ;  when  you  have  plucked  off  his 
wings,  so  that  he  can  no  longer  fly  ;  and  when  you  have  pulled 
out  his  guiding  taii-feathers,  so  that  he  can  no  longer  steer  him- 


AY-  / '.   Ill:  .\\V  Y    WA  1<1>    HE  I  ill  I:  A'.  3  I  I 

self,  but  rolls  in  the  dirt,  a  mere  buzzard"— then  will  he  be  worth 
preserving?  Such  an  eagle  it  is  that  they  mean  to  depict  upon 
the  banner  of  A.meri<  a. 

"...  So  far  as  1  myself  am  concerned,  I  utterly  abhor 
peace  on  any  such  grounds.  Give  me  war  redder  than  blood 
and  fiercer  than  fire,  if  this  terrific  infliction  is  necessary  that  I 
may  maintain  my  faith  in  God,  in  human  liberty,  my  faith  of  the 
fathers  in  the  instruments  of  liberty,  my  faith  in  this  land  as  the 
appointed  abode  and  chosen  refuge  of  liberty  for  all  the  earth  ! 
War  is  terrible,  but  that  abyss  of  ignominy  is  yet  more  terrible  !" 

He  then  pointed  out  the  steps  that  must  be  taken  in  the 
going  forward.  They  were,  deepening  and  cleansing  our  con- 
victions, making  them  more  earnest  and  religious  ;  drawing  the 
lines  ;  cherishing  feelings  of  benevolence,  and  aiming  at  a  peace 
built  on  foundations  of  God's  immutable  truth,  so  solid  that  no- 
thing can  reach  to  unsettle  it. 

To  show  the  spirit  which  he  cherished  in  those  days,  we  can- 
not do  better  than  give  one  of  the  familiar  lecture-room  discus- 
sions which  were  so  frequent  between  him  and  his  people.  It 
was  immediately  after  the 'death  of  Colonel  Ellsworth,  which 
took  place  May  21,  1861  : 

"  Ques.  Will  you  please  explain  one  point  ?  I  am  so  much  a 
natural  man  as  not  to  be  able  to  obey  the  injunction  which  calls 
upon  me  to  love  my  enemies  ;  and  when  I  stand  on  Broadway  in 
New  York,  and  see  men  in  regiments  which  are  bound  for  the 
field  of  battle,  having  been  taken  from  their  homes,  their  wives, 
their  children,  and  all  that  is  dear  to  them  on  earth,  by  the  con- 
duct of  miscreants,  I  cannot  understand  how  you  can  have  such 
feelings  as  you  express.  I  wish  you  would  speak  on  that  sub- 
ject." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  brother  feels  just  as  he  says  he 
does,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  do  not  feel  a  bit  so.  When 
I  consider  the  interests  of  God's  advancing  kingdom  of  justice, 
and  judgment,  and  mercy,  and  purity,  and  truth,  and  liberty,  I 
think  that  all  the  things  in  the  earth  are  of  no  value  at  all  in  the 
comparison,  and  that  the  earth  might  melt  with  fervent  heat,  the 
elements  dissolve,  and  the  globe  vanish  away  rather  than  that 
this  kingdom  should  not  prevail.  '  Let  God  be  true,  but  every 
man  a  liar.'  Let  the  nations  perish,  let  everything  go,  but  let  the 
eternal  treasures  of    God — truth,  liberty,  mercy,   judgment,  and 


312  B  TOGRA  PH  Y  OF 

purity — be  preserved.  I  feel  lifted  up  to  a  sovereign  height  of 
inspiration  when  I  conceive  of  the  majesty  of  these  treasures, 
effluent  from  the  heart  of  God,  which  He  is  seeking  to  embody  in 
our  time,  in  our  earth,  in  this  nation.  Therefore,  when  I  see 
justice  put  down  I  feel  like  a  lion.  When  I  see  a  great  moral 
principle  overborne  there  are  no  bounds  to  my  indignation. 
When  I  see  a  great  humanity  trodden  under  foot  I  long  to  be  a 
champion  for  it.  And  when  I  look  on  the  face  of  an  ignorant, 
erring,  wicked  multitude,  I  think  of  a  great  many  things  be- 
sides. .  .  . 

"  For  the  sake  of  these  great  principles  I  would  give  my  life 
as  quick  as  I  would  pour  out  a  glass  of  water  ;  or  I  will  do  what 
is  harder  than  that — I  will  keep  it  and  use  it  for  forty  years,  if 
God  spares  it,  increasing  its  toil  every  year.  I  will  make  any 
sacrifice  or  perform  any  labor  for  the  sake  of  a  moral  principle. 
But  when  I  look  at  the  South,  other  feelings  besides  those  of 
vengeance  are  excited  in  me.  Every  one  of  those  traitors  is  as 
wicked  as  you  think,  and  more.  The  Floyds,  the  Davises,  the 
Toombses,  the  Rhetts,  and  all  such  as  they,  are  more  wicked  than 
we  know  ;  and  yet  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Saviour  held  up 
for  every  such  one.  They  are  all  immortal,  they  are  all,  like  my- 
self, pilgrims  toward  the  bourne  of  the  eternal.  And  when  I 
think  how  many  ignorant  creatures  are  led  by  those  base  men  to 
do  wicked  things,  half  of  the  wickedness  of  which  they  do  not 
know,  I  feel  compassion  for  them  and  am  sorry  for  them.  If  they 
array  themselves  against  justice  it  is  necessary  that  they  should 
be  overborne  ;  but  not  one  blow  more  than  is  necessary  for  the 
defence  of  the  principle  assailed  should  be  struck.  We  are  not 
authorized  to  inflict  vengeance.  '  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  re- 
pay, saith  the  Lord.  Therefore,  if  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed 
him  ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink  ;  for  in  so  doing  thou  shalt 
heap  coals  of  fire  on  his  head.'  About  the  use  of  every  single 
sword  and  spear  and  ball  needful  to  assert  a  divine  principle 
there  should  be  no  squeamishness.  I  am  for  war  just  so  far  as  it 
is  necessary  to  vindicate  a  great  moral  truth.  But  one  particle 
of  violence  beyond  that  is  a  flagrant  treason  against  the  law  of 
love.  And  I  can  say  to-night  that  I  would  go  to  war  with  every 
State  in  the  Southern  Confederacy,  if  called  of  God  to  join  the 
army,  and  would  hold  them  to  the  conflict  till  the  cause  of  right 
was  vindicated  ;  and  that  I   could,   at  the  same  time,  pray  for 


REV.  HENRY  WARP   BEEC/fER,  JfJ 

those  misguided  men  as  easily  as  to-night  I  can  pray  for  my  own 
babes.  1  am  as  sorry  foi  them  as  for  any  sel  of  men  m  the 
world.  1  do  not  think  I  utter  a  prayer  on  any  morning  that  I  do 
not  pray  for  them,  and  that  God  does  not  see  my  feeling  of  ten- 
derness and  sorrow  toward  them.  And  that  is  not  all.  1  regard 
them  as  citizens  yet.  1  love  this  whole  country.  I  love  its  past 
and  its  prospective  history.  God  do  so  to  me,  and  more  also,  if 
I  ever  cease  to  feel  for  them  all,  misguided  though  they  be,  as 
anxiously  as  for  my  own  kin  and  brethren.  We  cannot  afford 
to  be  very  critical  with  wickedness. 

"  However,  there  are  some  difficulties  involved  in  this  ques- 
tion. Colonel  Ellsworth,  who  has  just  been  murdered  by  one 
of  these  'miscreants'  of  whom  you  speak,  I  knew  well.  I  was 
thinking  of  my  own  sensations  when  I  walked  over  from  New 
York  after  hearing  the  sad  news.  Why,  I  was  forty  feet  high  ! 
1  was  scared,  I  grew  so  fast.  I  walked  so  lordly  that  every  step 
seemed  to  have  the  weight  of  a  mountain  ;  yet  I  did  not  feel  the 
touch  of  the  earth.  For  one  hour  I  think  I  had  enough  volume 
of  feeling  to  have  swept  away  a  continent.  I  was  almost  fright- 
ened at  the  turbulent  and  swelling  tide  within  me,  and  I  said  : 
'  Suppose  my  Master  should  come  and  say  :  My  child,  what  are 
you  doing  with  such  feelings  ?  Where  is  My  teaching  ?  What 
are  you  taking  on  yourself  My  supreme  attribute  for  ?  "  Ven- 
geance is  mine,  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord."'  Is  it  not  charm- 
ing how  these  texts  will  exorcise  the  devil  ?  I  put  that  passage 
on  my  head  as  a  crown,  and  I  have  felt  as  peaceful  as  a  lamb 
ever  since.  And  although  it  was  very  base  and  wicked  for  that 
man  to  murder  Colonel  Ellsworth  as  he  did,  I  can  say  that  had 
he  not  expiated  his  crime,  and  had  the  victim  been  my  brother,  I 
could  still  have  forgiven  him  and  prayed  for  him. 

"  Now,  my  brethren,  I  am  going  to  fight  this  battle  right 
straight  through  from  beginning  to  end,  and  not  lose  my  Chris- 
tian feelings  either.  I  am  going  to  stick  close  to  my  Saviour. 
And,  with  regard  to  the  past,  I  am  not  sorry  for  one  sermon  that 
I  have  preached  among  you,  or  that  I  have  preached  during  the 
last  twenty  years  of  my  life.  If  the  question  were  put  to  me  to- 
night, '  When  you  look  back  upon  your  public  life  and  see  what 
you  have  done  to  bring  about  the  present  issue,  are  you  not  sorry 
for  the  ground  you  have  taken  ? '  I  would  say,  No.  I  bless  God 
for  every  word  I  have  spoken  and  every  influence  I  have  exerted 


314  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

in  that  direction.  Knowing  all  that  was  to  be,  I  would  do  over 
again  all  that  I  have  done  if  the  same  state  of  things  existed, 
only  my  little  finger  should  be  as  heavy  as  my  loins  have  been. 

"  Now  that  the  time  of  conflict  has  come,  we  must  accept  it. 
I  mean  to  go  through  it,  and  you  shall  ;  and  I  pray  God  that  the 
whole  anointed  Church  at  the  North  may,  bearing  the  banner  of 
Christ  along  with  the  banner  of  our  country.  The  stars  over  us 
shall  not  be  brighter  and  purer  than  those  that  we  carry  into  this 
very  conflict.  We  have  had  examples  enough  to  know  that  even 
in  such  a  desperate  case  as  civil  war  a  man  may  be  a  Christian. 
I  thank  God  that  praying  men  have  gone  into  the  army  from 
this  church.  Every  day  and  night  there  is  a  prayer-meeting 
in  our  camp,  and  there  will  be  to  the  end.  And  I  believe  that 
among  our  soldiers  are  those  who,  if  they  saw  the  bitterest  and 
most  blasphemous  of  the  enemy  suffering  and  dying,  would  re- 
lieve their  sufferings  by  kind  offices  and  soothe  their  last  mo- 
ments by  comforting  words.  God  grant  that  it  may  be  so,  and 
that,  both  in  the  service  of  the  country  and  in  the  service  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  they  may  be  true  soldiers  !  " 

It  is  impossible  to  describe,  or  even,  in  our  time,  to  conceive, 
the  fervor  of  patriotism  that  followed  the  firing  upon  Fort  Sum- 
ter. Patriotic  meetings  were  held  in  nearly  every  village  of  the 
North,  and  the  raising  of  flag-poles  with  their  accompanying  ex- 
ercises was  the  order  of  the  day.  A  monster  mass-meeting  was 
held  in  Union  Square,  New  York,  over  which  John  A.  Dix 
presided,  and  where  the  flag  which  had  been  lowered  at  Sumter 
was  displayed.  The  attack  on  the  Massachusetts  regiment  in 
Baltimore  as  it  hastened  to  the  defence  of  Washington  deep- 
ened and  increased  the  excitement.  The  ranks  of  military  com- 
panies already  organized  were  speedily  filled,  and  the  young  men 
met,  in  most  of  our  Northern  cities,  week  by  week  for  military 
drill.  A  squad  of  these  was  formed  in  Brooklyn.  Some  fif- 
teen of  us  wanted  to  go  to  the  front,  and  offered  ourselves  to 
one  of  the  New  York  regiments,  but  the  offer  was  refused  with 
thanks.  Their  ranks  were  full  and  they  had  no  place  for  us. 
Hearing  of  this,  Mr.  Beecher,  who  took  a  deep  interest  in  this 
whole  matter  and  used  to  attend  our  drills,  proposed  that  two  of 
us,  his  own  son  and  one  who  expected  to  belong  to  his  family, 
should  join  a  cavalry  regiment  then  being  enlisted  in  New  York. 
He  gave  us  each  a  horse,  brought  us  home  our  equipment  of 


.  ///•;. VR )'  WARD  BEECHER.  5  I  5 

pistols,  bowie-knives,  etc.,  and,  the  next  day,  went  with  us  to  New 
York  to  see  us  enlist  ;  but  the  enlisting  officer  had  received  no- 

tice   from    Washington    the   day  before  to  accept  DO  more  recruits 

— cavalry  regiments  were  not  thought  to  be  necessary  for  the 
ninetv  days'  struggle  ;  and  so  we  were  refused  One  of  us  went 
to  Riker's  Island,  and,  after  a  month  of  waiting,  was  able  to  get 
into  service;  the  other,  having  just  finished  his  theological 
course,  and  having  for  weeks  been  importuned  by  a  church  to 
become  its  pastor,  concluded  that  it  was  God's  will  that  he 
should  preach,  left  the  city,  and  went  to  work. 

There  was  great  variety  of  work  to  be  done.  No  need  now  of 
efforts  to  arouse  the  public  mind — the  firing  upon  Fort  Sumter 
had  done  that  ;  no  need  now  of  urging  men  to  the  front — the 
young  men  of  the  nation  had  formed  into  companies  and  regi- 
ments faster  than  the  government  was  willing  to  accept  them. 
Illinois  asked  permission  to  furnish  all  the  men  that  were  re- 
quired. But  another  work  pressed  upon  heart  and  hand.  Homes 
at  the  North  were  being  made  desolate,  not  only  by  the  absence 
but  by  the  death  of  their  loved  ones.  Tidings  began  to  reach 
us  of  what  afterwards  seemed  skirmishes,  but  were  important 
battles  in  those  days — Big  Bethel,  Newport  News,  and  others;  and 
the  list  of  the  dead,  small  to  what  it  afterwards  became,  carried 
with  it  then,  as  always,  sorrow  and  heart-break.  The  bodies  of 
fallen  sons  and  brothers,  picked  up  on  the  battle-field  or  gathered 
from  the  hospitals,  covered  with  the  stars  and  stripes,  were  being 
borne  through  the  streets  of  our  cities  on  the  way  to  bereaved 
homes,  and  the  people  needed  comforting.  Then  it  was  that 
the  words  of  one  perfectly  assured  of  the  justice  of  the  cause, 
that  it  was  of  God,  and  that  those  who  upheld  their  country's 
flag  were  doing  His  work,  and  who  viewed  life  and  death  as 
only  and  equally  desirable  wrhen  they  accomplished  His  will, 
rang  out  like  the  resurrection  challenge  of  St.  Paul  :  "  O  death  ! 
where  is  thy  sting  ?     O  grave  !   where  is  thy  victory  ?  " 

In  a  sermon  preached  May  26,  186 1,  when  but  the  first  mut- 
terings  of  the  storm  had  been  heard  and  the  first  splashes  of  rain 
were  felt,  he  says  :  "  He  whose  remains  are  to  pass  to-day,  amid 
many  tears,  through  yonder  city,  lived  long  though  he  died  early. 
Why  ?  Because  he  lived  to  a  moral  purpose.  Because  he  has 
given  his  name  to  patriotism.  Millions  of  men  shali  live  four- 
score years  and  shall  not  leave  any  such  memorial  as  he  has  left. 


3  1 6  BIOGRA  PH  Y  OF 

He  had  lived  long  enough.  Any  man  that  can  give  the  whole 
weight  of  his  being  and  his  heart-life  to  a  great  truth  or  cause  has 
lived  long  enough.  Measure  him  by  the  higher  and  not  by  the 
lower  standard.  Do  not  say  that  he  has  lost  days,  that  he  has 
lost  coming  honors,  that  he  lost  pleasure.  He  lost  nothing.  He 
gained  everything.  He  gained  glory,  and  paid  his  life  for  it  in 
such  a  way  as  to  take  on  immortality." 

One  very  intimate  with  him  in  those  days  says  :  "  I  do  not 
think  that  he  spent  a  moment  in  solicitude  for  the  fate  of  those 
who  were  at  the  front,  not  even  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood.  Ev- 
erything seemed  swallowed  up  in  his  zeal  for  his  country,  and  for 
her  he  was  ready  to  sacrifice  everything  without  complaint  or 
hesitation." 

"  My  oldest  son  is  in  the  army,  and  shall  I  read  with  trembling 
anxiety  the  account  of  every  battle  to  see  if  he  is  slain  ?  I  gave 
him  to  the  Lord,  and  I  shall  not  take  him  back  and  I  will  not 
worry  and  fret  myself  about  him.  I  will  trust  in  God  though 
He  slay  not  only  him  but  me  also ;  and  all  I  have  I  put  on  the 
same  ground — I  try  to,  sometimes  not  succeeding  and  sometimes 
succeeding  a  little.  My  God,  this  Christ  Emmanuel — God  with 
me — has  sustained  and  comforted  me  in  care  and  trouble,  and 
taken  away  my  fear  and  put  hope  in  its  place,  and  I  will  look  to 
Him  still  ;  and  if  there  are  any  here  that  have  carried  burdens, 
and  whose  faces  are  wrinkled  with  care,  I  beseech  of  you  to  try 
living  by  faith  in  a  present  Saviour  that  loves  you  and  ordains  all 
things,  and  says  that  everything  shall  work  for  your  good  if  you 
love  God." 

Among  the  things  that  occupied  his  time  and  called  forth 
all  his  energies  was  the  equipment  of  the  Fourteenth  Long  Isl- 
and Regiment.  His  home  at  124  Columbia  Heights  became  a 
store-house  of  military  goods  and  a  place  of  consultation  for 
men  interested  in  the  events  that  were  taking  place  ;  Plymouth 
Church  became  a  rendezvous  for  regiments  passing  to  the  front, 
and  the  church  parlors  a  workshop  where  the  women  and  maid- 
ens of  the  church,  under  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Beecher,  met  daily 
to  sew  and  knit  and  pack  for  the  soldiers.  He  told  Mrs.  Beecher 
to  use  all  his  salary  in  this  direction,  except  such  as  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  running  the  household.  She  did  this,  and 
added  to  the  amount  by  personal  solicitation  from  families  and 
merchants,  until  an  immense  sum  was  raised  and  expended. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER.  317 

While  many  nun  sent  single  substitutes,  Mr.  Beecher  deter- 
mined to  be  represented  in  the  war  by  a  whole  regiment  ;  and 

■  helping  to  tit  out  two  regiments,  he  took  upon  himself  the 
entire  burden  of  equipping  a  new  one,  called  "The  long  Island 
Volunteers,"  afterwards  the  Sixty-seventh  New  York.  This  regi- 
ment would  never  have  had  any  existence  but  for  the  labors  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beecher,  and  the  members  of  the  church  whom 
they  interested  in  it.  Their  eldest  son,  Henry  Barton  Beecher, 
joined  it  and  was  made  a  lieutenant.  In  those  days  the  gov- 
ernment had  plenty  of  men  and  very  little  money,  and  therefore 
declined  to  accept  this  regiment  for  many  weeks  after  it  was 
organized,  during  which  time  the  entire  expense  of  feeding  and 
clothing  the  men  was  borne  by  subscriptions  raised  by  Mr. 
Beecher.  It  was  not  until  after  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  at  the 
end  of  July,  1861,  that  the  regiment  was  even  in  form  accepted, 
and  not  until  much  later  that  it  was  actually  mustered  into  the 
national  service. 

In  those  days  of  multiplied  and  harassing  labors  Mr.  Beecher 
did  not  lose  his  hope,  his  cheerfulness,  nor  even  his  mirthfulness. 
He  had  a  refuge  to  which  he  constantly  fled  when  the  pressure 
became  too  heavy.  He  had  also  the  power  of  seeing  the  humor- 
ous side  of  many  common  or  even  tragic  events,  and  drawing 
from  them  laughter  as  well  as  tears.  The  flowers,  too,  and  the 
clouds  had  their  message  for  him.  He  kept  the  channels  of  his 
soul  wide  open  on  every  side  to  receive,  and  became  a  fountain 
of  perpetual  inspiration  to  others. 

At  this  time,  while  the  route  through  Baltimore  was  closed 
against  our  troops  on  their  way  to  Washington,  he  preached  to 
the  "  Brooklyn  Fourteenth,"  on  the  eve  of  their  departure  to 
the  front,  upon  "Our  National  Flag."  After  giving  the  history 
of  our  banner  he  more  particularly  addressed  the  soldiers  before 
him  : 

"  And  now  God  speaks  by  the  voice  of  His  providence,  say- 
ing, '  Lift  again  that  banner  !  Advance  it  full  and  high  ! '  To 
your  hands  God  and  your  country  commit  that  imperishable 
trust.  You  go  forth  self-called,  or  rather  called  by  the  trust  of 
your  countrymen  and  by  the  Spirit  of  your  God,  to  take  that 
trailing  banner  out  of  the  dust  and  out  of  the  mire,  and  lift  it 
again  where  God's  rains  can  cleanse  it,  and  where  God's  free  air 
can  cause  it  to  unfold  and  stream  as  it  has  always  floated  before 


3  l8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

the  wind.  God  bless  the  men  that  go  forth  to  save  from  disgrace 
the  American  flag  ! 

"Accept  it,  then,  in  all  its  fulness  of  meaning.  It  is  not  a 
painted  rag.  It  is  a  whole  national  history.  It  is  the  Constitution. 
It  is  the  government.  It  is  the  free  people  that  stand  in  the 
government  on  the  Constitution.  Forget  not  what  it  means  ; 
and,  for  the  sake  of  its  ideas  rather  than  its  mere  emblazonry, 
be  true  to  your  country's  flag.  By  your  hands  lift  it ;  but  let 
your  lifting  it  be  no  holiday  display.  It  must  be  advanced  'be- 
cause of  the  truth.' 

"  That  flag  must  go  to  the  capital  of  this  nation ;  and  it  must 
not  go  hidden,  not  secreted,  not  in  a  case  or  covering,  but  full 
high  displayed,  bright  as  the  sun,  clear  as  the  moon,  terrible  as 
an  army  with  banners  !  For  a  single  week  that  disgraceful  work, 
that  shameful  circuit,  may  be  needful  ;  but  the  way  from  New 
England,  the  way  from  New  York,  the  way  from  New  Jersey  and 
Pennsylvania,  to  Washington,  lies  right  through  Baltimore,  and 
that  is  the  way  the  flag  must  and  shall  go  !  [Enthusiastic  cheers.] 
But  that  flag,  borne  by  ten  thousand  and  thrice  ten  thousand 
hands,  from  Connecticut,  from  Massachusetts  (God  bless  the 
State  and  all  her  men  !),  from  shipbuilding  Maine,  from  old 
granite  New  Hampshire,  from  Vermont  of  Bennington  and 
Green-Mountain-Boy  patriotism,  from  Rhode  Island,  not  behind 
any  in  zeal  and  patriotism,  from  New  York,  from  Ohio,  from 
Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey  and  Delaware,  and  the  other  loyal 
States — that  flag  must  be  carried,  bearing  every  one  of  its  insig- 
nia, to  the  sound  of  the  drum  and  the  fife,  into  our  national 
capital,  until  Washington  shall  seem  to  be  a  forest  in  which  every 
tree  supports  the  American  banner ! 

"  And  it  must  not  stop  there.  The  country  does  not  belong 
to  us  from  the  Lakes  only  to  Washington,  but  from  the  Lakes  to 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  flag  must  go  on.  The  land  of  Wash- 
ington shall  see  Washington's  flag  again.  The  land  that  sits  in 
darkness,  and  in  which  the  people  see  no  light,  shall  yet  see  light 
dawn  and  liberty  flash  from  the  old  American  banner  !  %  It  must 
see  Charleston  again,  and  float  again  over  every  fort  in  Charles- 
ton harbor.  It  must  go  further,  to  the  Alligator  State,  and  stand 
there  again.  And  sweeping  up  through  all  plantations  and  over 
all  fields  of  sugar  and  rice  and  tobacco,  and  every  other  thing,  it 
must  be  found  in  every  State  till  you  touch  the  Mississippi  ;  and, 


RE  I '.  HENR  I '  //'.-/ RD  BEL  i  'HER*  Jig 

bathing   in    its  waters,  it    must    go    across    and    fill   Texas  with  its 
sacred  light.     Nor  must  it  stop  when  it  floats  over  every  one  "t 

the  States.     That  flag  must  stand,  hearing  its  whole  historic  spirit 

and  original  meaning,  in  every  Territory  of  this  nation  !  " 

Other   sermons  of   similar  character  followed.      "The  Camp, 

it-    Hangers   and    Duties,"  was   one: 

"For  any  one  that  is  going  forth  to  meet  the  temptations  of 
camp  life  J  had  almost  said  I  would  sum  up  in  one  single  word 
of  remembrance  a  talisman  of  safety — temperance,  absolute 
temperance.  .  .  .  The  men  that  are  dangerous  in  camps  are  not 
bloated  drunkards,  shameless  gamblers,  and  such  as  they.  But 
an  accomplished  officer,  a  brilliant  fellow,  who  knows  the  world, 
who  is  gentle  in  language,  who  understands  all  the  etiquettes  of 
society,  who  is  fearless  of  God,  who  believes  nothing  in  religion, 
who  does  not  hesitate,  with  wit  and  humor,  to  jeer  at  sacred 
thingc,  who  takes  an  infernal  pleasure  in  winding  around  his  fin- 
ger the  young  about  him,  who  is  polished  and  wicked,  and  walks 
as  an  angel  of  light  to  tempt  his  fellow-men,  as  Satan  did  to 
tempt  our  first  parents — if  there  be  in  camp  such  a  one,  he  is 
the  dangerous  man. 

"  There  ought  to  be  a  bold  stand  taken  in  favor  of  virtue  by 
the  good  in  each  one  of  the  various  companies.  If  there  is  not 
such  a  stand  taken  in  Company  C  of  the  Fourteenth  Regiment, 
I  shall  be  ashamed  of  my  preaching." 

He  was  constantly  invited  to  lecture,  and  almost  any  sum  was 
offered  to  secure  his  services.  These,  as  we  may  well  conceive, 
were  mostly  patriotic  addresses  upon  the  great  subjects  that  were 
then  burning  in  the  minds  of  the  American  people. 

We  remember  well  his  having  a  course  at  Providence,  Rhode 
Island,  the  third  of  which  was  delivered  Monday,  after  the  heavy 
work  of  the  day  previous,  and  when  he  took  the  train  he  had 
not  touched  pen  to  paper  nor  given  it  a  moment's  thought  ;  but 
his  mind  and  heart  were  fully  awake,  and  the  resources  of  a  life- 
time of  thought  and  labor  were  at  his  command. 

The  battle  of  Bull  Run,  which  was  fought  in  July,  as  is  well 
known,  was  the  first  battle  of  the  war  of  really  national  impor- 
tance. The  result  was  sobering  and  humiliating  to  the  North. 
On  the  following  Sundny  evening  Mr.  Beecher  preached  a  ser- 
mon upon  "God  in  National  Affairs."  After  tracing  His  way  in 
the  history  of  the  nation,  he  says  : 


320  lUOGRAPIlY  OP 

"  The  l)attle  is  well  begun.  If  I  consult  my  pride,  if  i  con- 
sult my  vanity,  I  fain  would  never  have  seen  our  banners  dip  ; 
and  yet,  if  I  consult  a  larger  wisdom,  I  know  not  but  that  the 
best  thing  that  can  befall  us  is  that  humiliation  which  shall 
teach  us  not  to  rely  so  much  on  words  and  cheers  and  newspa- 
per campaigns.  A  defeat  just  sufficient  to  make  us  feel  that  we 
must  fall  upon  the  interior  stores  of  manhood,  that  we  must  have 
faith  in  God,  that  we  must  set  aside  everything  but  a  solemn 
purpose  and  an  earnest  consecration  of  ourselves  to  this  work 
which  God  has  given  us  to  do — such  a  defeat  cannot  but  be 
beneficial." 

And  so  it  proved.  The  battle  of  Bull  Run  awoke  the  North 
from  its  dream  of  easy  conquest,  and  thenceforth  she  took  up  the 
war  in  earnest. 

In  his  Thanksgiving  sermon  in  November  of  that  year,  upon 
"  Modes  and  Duties  of  Emancipation,"  he  shows  the  conserva- 
tism of  his  belief  and  his  confidence  in  the  national  authority 
if  rightly  used — "  This  conflict  must  be  carried  on  through  our 
institutions,  not  over  them  " — and  his  view  of  the  great  forces  en- 
gaged— "  While  preparations  for  this  conflict  have  been  going  on 
God  has  poured  money  into  our  coffers  and  taken  it  away  from 
those  who  might  use  it  to  our  harm.  He  is  holding  back  France 
and  England,  and  saying  to  all  nations,  '  Appoint  the  bounds  ! 
Let  none  enter  the  lists  to  interfere  while  those  gigantic  warriors 
battle  for  victory  !  Liberty  and  God,  and  slavery  and  the  devil, 
stand  over  against  each  other,  and  let  no  man  put  hand  or  foot  into 
the  ring  till  they  have  done  battle  unto  death  ! '  Amen  !  Even  so, 
Lord  Almighty.  It  is  Thy  decree,  and  it  shall  stand  !  And 
when  the  victory  shall  come,  not  unto  vis,  not  unto  us,  but — in 
the  voice  of  thrice  ten  thousand,  and  thousands  of  thousands, 
of  ransomed  ones,  mingled  with  Thine  earthly  children's  gladness 
— unto  Thee  shall  be  the  praise  and  the  glory,  for  ever  and 
ever.     Amen." 

During  all  these  years,  almost  from  the  time  he  came  to 
Brooklyn,  Mr.  Beecher  had  been  fortunate  in  having  a  channel 
of  communication  with  the  public,  in  general  so  in  harmony 
with  his  own  views  and  spirit  as  the  New  York  Independent.  In 
its  second  number  appears  an  extract  from  a  sermon  of  his,  fol- 
lowed by  frequent  contributions  from  his  pen  called  "  Star  Pa- 
pers,"  and  for  the  last  three  years  a  sermon  in  full  upon  the  sec- 


AV-r.   I/KXA'V   WARD  HEI-.CII l-.R.  32  1 

Oncl  page.  He  is  now  called  to  its  head.  In  the  ISSUC  of  Dec  em- 
ber 19,  1S61,  appears  his  "Salutatory."      Since  in  this  he  gives,  111 

brief,  his  conception  of  the  office  and  importance  of  the  religious 
newspaper,  it  is  given  in  full: 

"  The  undersigned  has  to-day  assumed  the  editorial  manage- 
ment of  the  Independent.  This  will  not  involve  any  change  in 
the  principles,  the  purposes,  or  general  spirit  of  the  paper.  The 
Independent  was  founded  to  illustrate  and  to  defend  the  truths 
and  doctrines  of  the  Christian  religion  ;  to  employ  them  as  the 
authoritative  standards  by  which  to  estimate  and  influence  events, 
measures,  and  men  ;  to  infuse  a  spirit  of  truth  and  humanity  into 
the  affairs  of  this  nation ;  to  give  aid  and  encouragement  to 
every  judicious  scheme  of  Christian  benevolence.  It  has  sought 
to  leaven  with  the  Christian  spirit  all  the  great  elements  of 
our  civilization.  These  were  the  aims.  The  results  are  upon 
record. 

"  For  the  future,  studying  a  catholic  sympathy  with  all  who 
love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  seeking  to  promote  concord 
among  all  Christians  of  every  name,  the  Independent  will  still 
continue  explicitly  and  firmly  to  hold  and  to  teach  those  great 
cardinal  doctrines  of  religion  that  are  substantially  held  in  com- 
mon by  the  Congregational  orthodox  churches  of  New  England 
and  by  the  Presbyterian  churches  of  our  whole  land.  But,  as 
heretofore,  this  will  be  done  for  the  promotion  of  vital  godliness 
rather  than  for  sectarianism. 

"  The  Independent  will  not  deviate  from  that  application  of 
Christian  truth  to  all  public  questions  which  has  thus  far  charac- 
terized its  course.  While  seeking  to  promote  religious  feeling,  as 
such,  and  to  incite  and  supply  devotional  wants,  it  will  not  for- 
get that  there  is  an  ethical  as  well  as  an  emotive  life  in  true  reli- 
gion. We  shall  therefore  assume  the  liberty  of  meddling  with 
every  question  which  agitates  the  civil  or  Christian  community, 
according  to  our  own  best  discretion. 

"  The  editorial  profession,  with  the  progress  of  popular  intel- 
ligence, has  assumed  an  importance  second  to  no  other.  It  may 
unite  in  it  the  elements  of  power  hitherto  distributed  in  the  sev- 
eral professions,  and  add,  besides,  many  that  have  belonged  to  no 
other  calling.  He  who  knows  the  scope  and  power  of  the  press 
need  desire  no  higher  office  than  the  editorial. 

"  In  that  silent  realm  of  influences  out  of  which  proceed  the 


32  2  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

actions  of  men  and  the  events  of  history,  the  editor  is  the  invis- 
ible leader.  Votes  cannot  raise  him  higher.  His  pen  is  more 
than  a  sceptre.  Profoundly  impressed  with  such  a  responsibility, 
desiring  to  honor  God  in  the  welfare  of  men,  we  ask  the  sympa- 
thy of  good  men  and  the  remembrance  of  all  who  pray. 

"Henry  Ward  Beecher." 

At  this  time  the  excitement  growing  out  of  the  capture  of 
Mason  and  Slidell  on  board  the  British  steamer  Trent,  by  Com- 
modore Wilkes  on  the  San  Jacinto,  was  at  its  height.  News  had 
just  reached  this  country  of  the  bitter  feeling  awakened  by  "the 
outrage,"  of  the  shipment  of  troops  to  Canada,  and  other  hasty 
preparations  by  Great  Britain  to  avenge  the  insult  to  her  flag. 
And  Mr.  Beecher's  first  editorial  bears  the  somewhat  ominous 
title  of  "War  with  England." 

As  we  might  expect,  it  is  both  temperate  and  defiant  in  lan- 
guage and  tone  : 

"  We  have  no  idea  that  there  will  be  any  war  with  that  power. 
England  has  a  peculiar  practical  wisdom  in  affairs  which  touch 
her  own  material  interests.  Her  folly  will  be  expended  in  words; 
her  wisdom  reserved  for  actions.  It  is  not  her  interest  to  go  to 
war  with  the  Northern  States  in  the  interest  of  the  Southern 
States.  There  is  no  probability  that  she  will  allow  herself,  what- 
ever she  has  done  in  other  days,  to  be  found  fighting  for  slavery 
against  freedom.  .   .  . 

"  There  is  no  desire  on  our  part  for  so  unnatural  a  war. 
To  avert  it  we  shall  be  willing  to  yield  anything  but  honor.  Our 
hands  are  sufficiently  full.  To  have  a  British  fleet  thundering  at 
our  sea-doors,  while  the  volcano  was  yet  pouring  lava  through 
our  Southern  States,  would  be  a  little  more  business  on  hand 
than  could  be  attended  to  with  that  thoroughness  which  our  peo- 
ple desire  in  all  warlike  enterprises. 

"Yet  should  England  force  us  into  war,  terrible  and  atrocious 
as  that  would  be,  America  is  determined  to  put  her  in  the  wrong 
before  the  world.  If  we  have  transgressed  any  law  of  nations  ; 
if  we  have,  indeed,  violated  any  right  of  England  ;  if  we  have, 
to  the  width  of  a  hair,  passed  beyond  the  line  of  our  own  proper 
duty  and  right,  we  shall,  upon  suitable  showing,  need  no  menace 
to  make  ample  reparation.  We  shall  do  it  for  the  satisfaction  of 
our  own  sense  of  justice.     But  if  we  are   right,  if  we  have  done 


A' A'  / '.  HENR  V  U  A  RD  BEE  < 7/A  A.  323 

right,  all  the  threatening?  in  the  world  will  not  move  this  people 
from  their  steadfastness.  .  .  . 

"Our  wish  is  to  unite  with   England  in  a  race  <>i  <  ivilization. 

Hut  if  she  will  fight,  we  musty 

Some  idea  of  the  variety  and  character  of  the  work  he  did 
at  this  time  may  be  gained  by  a  look  at  his  editorials  found  in 
the  Independent  of  January  16,  1862,  the  third  week  of  his  ad- 
ministration as  editor.  The  first  is  "  Our  Help  from  Above,"  in 
which  he  directs  all  burdened  hearts  to  the  great  sources  and 
divine  methods  of  consolation.  "The  nearer  our  thoughts  come 
to  the  infinite  and  the  divine  the  more  power  have  we  over  our 
troubles.  The  act  of  consolation  is,  to  a  great  degree,  the  act  of 
inspiration." 

The  raising,  equipping,  and  feeding  such  vast  armies  as,  it  was 
now  seen,  would  be  required  for  the  prosecution  of  the  war, 
awakened  in  the  minds  of  thoughtful  men  a  question  scarcely 
second  in  importance  to  any.  By  what  plan  or  on  what  system 
shall  the  money  required  for  these  large  and  expensive  enterprises 
"be  secured  ?  His  second  editorial  upon  this  page  takes  up  this 
matter  under  the  head  of  "A  Word  from  the  People  to  Congress," 
in  which  he  urges  the  fearless  imposition  of  taxes  sufficient  to 
carry  on  the  war,  and  justifies  such  a  course  upon  the  simple 
basis  of  honesty.  The  article  opens  with  this  sentence,  "Taxa- 
tion and  national  honesty  are  now  synonymous,"  and  closes 
with  this,  "  Every  honest  man  in  America  ought  to  send  to 
Washington  one  message  in  two  words,  Fight,  Tax." 

How  to  treat  the  black  men  that  came  into  our  lines,  or  were 
liberated  by  the  advance  of  our  armies,  was  another  of  the  press- 
ing questions  at  this  time,  and  one  concerning  which  there  was 
a  great  difference  of  opinion,  He  treated  this  subject  in  a 
column  article  on  this  page,  entitled  "  Men,  not  Slaves."  The 
position  which  he  held,  and  advocated  with  great  force  and  clear- 
ness, is  given  in  this  sentence  :  "  One  thing  is  plain — one  thing 
as  a  starting-point  admits  of  no  doubt,  needs  no  hesitation  :  let 
us  forget  that  these  blacks  ever  were  slaves,  and  remember  only 
that  they  are  men.  With  this  as  our  first  principle  we  cannot  go 
far  wrong." 

This  money-raising  was  a  matter  of  so  great  importance  that 
he  devoted  another  column  to  it  on  this  same  page,  on  the 
"  Duty  of  the  Hour."      In   the  first  article  he   sent  a  message  to 


324  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

Congress  ;  in  this  he  speaks  to  the  Christian  public  :  u  Whether 
the  great  impending  patriotic  tax  shall  be  a  moral  triumph  and  a 
testimony  to  the  religious  life  of  this  people  will  depend  largely 
upon  the  conduct  of  Christian  men  and  the  action  of  Christian 
teachers.  .  .  .  There  seems  to  have  been  very  little  education  of  the 
consciences  of  Christian  men  to  the  duty  of  a  cheerful  support  of  gov- 
emment  by  their  property.  Even  Christian  men  are  tempted  to  give 
grudgingly,  selfishly,  meanly.  The  nobler  sentiments  of  the  heart 
have  been  allowed  but  little  scope  in  this  part  of  citizen  duty. 

"  Is  the  Gospel  worn  out  ?  Are  ministers  of  the  Gospel  less 
manly  and  Christian  than  in  the  days  of  the  fathers  ?  Has  the 
American  pulpit  forgotten  that  its  place  is  in  the  van — that  it 
leads,  not  follows,  the  camp  ? 

"  Every  church  should  have  a  public  sentiment  developed 
within  it  which  shall  make  this  national  tax  almost  a  free-will 
offering.  Let  Christian  laymen  take  counsel  together.  Let  the 
leading  men  of  towns  and  neighborhoods  not  only  set  a  good  ex- 
ample, but  make  it  their  duty  to  cheer  and  inspirit  the  slow  and 
reluctant.  Let  Christian  men  everywhere,  and  in  all  things,  seek 
to  inspire  the  public  mind  with  an  earnest  willingness  to  dis- 
charge this  great  debt  which  we  are  called  to  pay  for  national 
unity,  national  safety,  and  national  glory." 

In  those  days  of  dress-parades  in  our  largest  army,  and  "  all 
quiet  on  the  Potomac,"  men  chafed  continually  over  what  ap- 
peared to  be  inaction  and  timidity  on  the  part  of  the  government 
at  Washington.  This  found  expression  in  still  another  article  by 
this  same  pen  upon  this  same  page,  "  Courage  and  Enterprise  "  : 

"  There  was  never  a  time  when  timidity  was  so  nearly  allied 
to  rashness,  and  courage  to  the  highest  prudence,  as  now.  We 
have  every  element  of  national  prosperity  except  the  courage  to 
use  our  power.  Standing  on  a  centre  and  whirling  around  with 
sound  and  celerity  may  make  a  top,  but  never  an  administration. 
Courage  to  see  and  accept  the  whole  national  danger  ;  courage 
to  see  and  to  accept  the  thoroughest  remedy  ;  courage  to  ask 
the  people  for  all  that  is  needed,  without  a  thought  of  refusal ; 
courage  to  use  the  means,  willingly  afforded,  so  as  to  put  the 
whole  strength  of  this  nation  into  every  blow  ;  courage  to  dash 
in  pieces  every  enemy,  without  stopping  to  consider  just  how  we 
shall  mend  the  pieces  afterward — this  is  the  very  critical  pru- 
dence of  o;ood  administration. 


ay:/,  ///-..vat  ir.iA'i)  ni-hcm.R.  325 

"Since  war  is  upon  us,  let  us  have  courage  to  make  wrar. 

"  There  is  no  money  needed,  there  arc  no  men  wanted,  there 
is  no  enthusiasm  that  the  North  will  not  give  with  eager  glad- 
ness, it"  only  SOMEBODY  will  speak  to  the  nation  such  wonU  as  the 
fathers  spoke  !  Then  men  loved  liberty !  The  nation  suffered 
for  a  principle  !  What  are  we  doing  now  ?  Arc  we  raising  moss 
on  cannon-wheels,  or  are  we  fighting?  Is  it  husbandry  or  war 
that  is  going  on?  Are  we  to  starve  Southern  armies  or  conquer 
them  ?  Do  we  mean  to  put  down  rebellion  by  soldiers  or 
fa  rets?  " 

These  editorials  showed  certain  features  which  were  as  char- 
acteristic of  his  work  in  the  editor's  chair  as  they  were  in  the 
pulpit  and  upon  the  platform  ;  the  first  of  these  was  this  :  he  chose 
his  subjects  from  among  the  things  which  at  that  time  affected 
and  interested  the  people.  This  he  did,  not  simply  because  he 
could  then  get  the  ear  of  the  public,  nor  because  these  were  in 
themselves  the  largest  or  most  important  matters,  but  from  a 
deep  religious  conviction  that  these  present  questions  and  present 
interests  were  a  part  of  God's  providence,  by  which  and  through 
which  He  was  accomplishing  His  purposes;  and  that  in  treating 
these  matters  he  was  working  together  with  Him.  He  believed 
thoroughly  in  God's  action  in  common  affairs  and  through  the 
impulses  given  to  common  men.  This  conviction  made  him  a 
leader  of  the  people  without  bringing  him  into  bondage  to  them. 
It  gave  him  the  kind  of  leadership  to  which  he  attained  :  not  of 
the  abstract  thinker  in  the  movements  of  a  hundred  years  hence, 
but  of  the  practical  man  of  affairs  in  the  battles  of  to-day.  This 
gave  him  the  boldness  that  he  never  failed  to  display.  Confi- 
dent that  he  was  moving  in  harmonv  with  God's  purpose  and  at 
His  own  appointed  time,  he  waited  for  no  gathering  of  numbers, 
but  pushed  on  alone,  if  necessary,  with  an  assurance  born  of 
faith.  Storms  and  confusion  did  not  daunt  him,  because  he 
recognized  in  these  but  the  necessary  methods  by  which  the  Al- 
mighty carries  out  His  designs  in  the  moral  and  spiritual  as  in  the 
material  wrorld. 

Another  characteristic  feature  was  seen  in  his  treatment  of 
the  subject  in  hand.  He  uniformly  regarded  it  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  law  of  Christ's  kingdom  on  the  earth — "  Bear  ye 
orte  another's  burdens."  This  insured  harmony  in  his  policy 
through  all  changes  of  events  around  him,  and  ultimately  secured 


326  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

success.  All  the  forces  of  the  universe,  because  created  and 
administered  by  the  Saviour  of  mankind,  were  on  the  side  not 
only  of  justice  and  truth  but  of  kindness,  forbearance,  and  help- 
fulness, and  must  in  time  prevail.  So  deep  was  his  conviction  of 
the  direct  and  universal  application  of  the  law  of  this  kingdom 
that  he  instinctively  took  this  side,  and  linked  his  action  and  his 
destiny  with  its  fortunes,  when  prudence  and  policy  would  seem 
to  dictate  a  different  course,  with  a  sublime  confidence  in  its 
final  victory. 

A  third  characteristic  was  this  :  He  wrote  so  as  to  awaken  in- 
spiration, to  stir  men's  hearts  to  feel.  It  was  not  enough  that 
men  believed  a  truth  ;  that  was  nothing  unless  they  felt  it.  His 
words  must  take  hold,  they  must  excite  the  emotions  and  move 
men  to  action,  or  they  were  a  failure. 

Besides  the  editorial  articles  referred  to  on  this  one  page, 
there  was  his  sermon  in  this  same  issue  occupying  more  than  four 
columns  of  the  second  page  of  the  paper.  It  was  upon  the  Divine 
Government,  and  moved  along  on  these  lofty  heights :  "  We  be- 
lieve that  God  is  in  His  own  world  and  that  He  governs  it  by  His 
personal  will  ;  that  this  government  includes  nations,  families,  and 
individuals  ;  that  it  aims  at  the  highest  good  and  the  everlasting 
good  of  sentient  and  intelligent  creatures  ;  that  it  is  one  which 
admits  the  action  of  our  minds  upon  God's  and  the  action  of 
God's  upon  ours  ;  that  it  has  in  it  a  place  for  all  human  yearn- 
ings and  strivings  and  longings."  "  I  bring  you  a  Gospel  that 
will  never  wear  out,  a  Gospel  which  is  for  ever  fresh,  and  that 
is,  Emmanuel — God  with  us :  God  with  you,  in  you,  around  you, 
loving  you,  bearing  with  you,  forgiving  you,  helping  you,  watch- 
ing over  you,  taking  you  up  and  carrying  you  as  the  parent  takes 
up  and  carries  the  little  child." 

The  first  anniversary  Sunday  of  the  attack  on  Fort  Sum- 
ter was  marked  by  a  sermon  on  the  "  Success  of  American  De- 
mocracy," the  tone  of  which  may  be  judged  by  the  following 
passage  : 

" '  We  will  give  every  dollar  that  we  are  worth,  every  child 
that  we  have,  and  our  own  selves  ;  we  will  bring  all  that  we  are 
and  all  that  we  have,  and  offer  them  up  freely — but  this  country 
shall  be  one  and  undivided.  We  will  have  one  Constitution 
and  one  liberty,  and  that  universal.'  The  Atlantic  shall  sound  it 
and    the    Pacific    shall   echo   it  back,   deep  answering   to    deep, 


A' J  r.  HENRY  WARD  BEEi  HER.  327 

and  it  shall  reverberate  from  the  Lakes  on  the  North  to  the  un- 
frozen Gulf  on  the  South — '  One  nation,  one  Constitution,  one 
starry  banner  ! '  Hear  it,  England! — one  country,  and  indivisi- 
ble.     Hear    it.   Europe  ! — one  people,  and    inseparable.       1 

Cod  ;  one  hope  ;  one  baptism  ;  one  Constitution  ;  one  govern- 
ment ;  one  nation  ;  one  country  ;  one  people — cost  what  it  may, 
we  will  have  it  !  " 

The  summer  of  1862  was,  perhaps,  a  period  of  as  great  dis- 
couragement to  the  North  as  any  during  the  war.  After  months 
of  preparation  and  wearisome  delays,  with  the  grandest  army 
that  had  ever  been  gathered  on  this  continent,  McClellan  had 
made  his  advance  against  Richmond,  only  to  entrench,  retreat,  and 
at  last  to  be  hurled  back  defeated  and  shattered.  It  was  when 
these  terrible  disasters  were  beginning  to  be  understood  and 
their  true  significance  appreciated  that  Mr.  Beecher's  editorials 
in  the  Independent  rose  to  their  highest  point  of  power  and  influ- 
ence. They  were  directed  to  the  people  and  to  the  government 
as  occasion  demanded,  but  always  with  such  a  grouping  of  facts, 
with  so  clear  an  appreciation  of  the  situation,  and  with  so  great 
earnestness  of  appeal  and  power  of  denunciation  that  they  must 
be  reckoned  among  the  loyal  forces.  We  give  the  titles  and  a  few 
sentences  from  several  of  that  time,  that  their  general  character 
may  be  understood.  On  July  3,  1862,  we  have  one  upon  "The 
Great  Duty  "  : 

"In  another  column  will  be  found  the  President's  call  for 
300,000  more  soldiers.  These,  and  as  many  more  if  needed,  can 
be  raised.  The  North  has  not  changed  her  mind.  The  integrity 
of  this  nation,  the  authority  of  its  Constitution  over  all  its  origi- 
nal territory,  will  be  maintained  at  every  hazard  and  at  whatever 
expense. 

"  It  is  our  duty  to  the  nation  and  to  the  family  of  nations  to 
make  a  slaveholders'  rebellion  so  odious  and  disastrous  that  it 
shall  stand  to  all  ages  like  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  Whatever  it 
may  cost  in  men  and  money,  the  North  is  fully  assured  that  for 
nothing  else  can  money  be  so  well  spent,  and  for  nothing  nobler 
can  men  live,  or,  if  need  be,  lay  down  their  lives  ! 

"  The  great  duty  now  is  to  maintain  a  united  North.  No 
event  can  be  more  sure  than  the  victory  of  this  government  over 
the  slaveholders'  conspiracy,  if  the  loyal  States  are  united.  But 
if  secret  feuds   or   open    factions  shall   divide  and   paralyze    the 


328  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

popular  feeling,  the  cause  will  fail,  or  succeed  only  after  long, 
wasting,  and  useless  expenditures." 

In  the  next  issue,  July  10,  he  has  an  equally  strong  editorial 
upon  "  The  Country's  Need."  The  suppression  of  news,  the 
failure  to  trust  the  people,  the  political  intrigues  at  the  capital, 
moved  him  to  righteous  and  sorrowful  indignation  : 

"  Did  the  government  frankly  say  to  this  nation,  We  are  de- 
feated ?  To  this  hour  it  has  not  trusted  the  people.  It  held 
back  the  news  for  days.  Nor  was  the  truth  honestly  told  when 
outside  information  compelled  it  to  say  something.  It  is  even  to 
this  hour  permitting  McClellan's  disaster  to  be  represented  as  a 
piece  of  skilfully  planned  strategy!  After  the  labor  of  two  months, 
the  horrible  sickness  of  thousands  of  men  poisoned  in  the  swamps 
of  the  Chickahominy,  the  loss  of  probably  more  than  ten  thousand 
as  noble  fellows  as  ever  lifted  a  hand  to  defend  their  country, 
McClellan,  who  was  four  miles  from  Richmond,  finds  himself 
twenty-five  miles  from  the  city,  wagons  burned,  ammunition-trains 
blown  up,  parks  of  artillery  captured,  no  entrenchments,  and 
with  an  army  so  small  that  it  is  not  pretended  that  he  can  reach 
Richmond  !  The  public  are  infatuated.  The  papers  that  re- 
galed us  two  weeks  ago  with  visions  of  a  Fourth  of  July  in  Rich- 
mond are  now  asking  us  to  rejoice  and  acclaim — not  at  victory — 
but  that  we  have  just  saved  the  arfny  !  McClellan  is  safe  ! — and 
Richmond  too  ! 

"  The  government,  upon  this  disaster,  procures  the  governors 
of  the  States  to  ask  it  to  call  for  300,000  more  men.  Why  did 
not  the  President  take  the  responsibility,  plainly  confess  our 
disaster,  say  that  we  were  within  a  hand-breadth  of  ruin,  throw 
himself  on  the  people?  No.  The  people  pay  taxes,  give  their 
sons  and  brothers — but  that  is  all.  We  are  sick  and  weary  of  this 
conduct.  We  have  a  sacred  cause,  a  noble  army,  good  officers, 
and  a  heroic  common  people.  But  we  are  like  to  be  ruined  by 
an  administration  that  will  not  tell  the  truth  ;  that  spends  pre- 
cious time  in  playing  at  President-making  ;  that  is  cutting  and 
shuffling  the  cards  for  the  next  great  political  campaign.  Unless 
good  men  awake,  unless  the  accursed  silence  is  broken  that  has 
fallen  on  the  people,  unless  the  government  is  held  sternly  to  its 
responsibility  to  the  people,  we  shall  dally  through  the  summer, 
make  brigadier-generals  until  autumn,  build  huge  entrenchments, 
but   fight   no   battles   till   they  are  forced   upon   us,  and  then  we 


HE  I '.  HENR  V  WA  A'/)  BE  E  CHER.  3  2  ( ) 

shall  be  called  upon  to  celebrate  our  defeats  or  retreats  as  mas- 
terly strategic 

14  We  have  a  country.  We  have  a  cause.  We  have  a  people. 
Let  all  good  men  pray  thai  God  would  give  us  a  government  !" 

This  is  followed  by  one,  July  17,  on  the  "Patriotism  of  the 
People."      Its  tone  will  be  understood  by  these  few  sentences  : 

"There  is  no  need  of  rousing  the  patriotism  of  the  people. 
It  is  an  inexhaustible  quality.  It  underlies  their  very  life.  The 
government  itself  is  buoyed  up  by  it,  and  rides  upon  it,  like  a 
ship  upon  the  fathomless  ocean. 

"  No.  It  is  the  government  that  needs  rousing.  We  do  not 
need  meetings  on  the  Hudson,  but  motion  on  the  Potomac.  It 
is  not  in  Boston,  or  Buffalo,  or  Cincinnati,  or  New  York  that 
this  case  is  to  be  settled,  but  in  Washington.  There  is  no  use  of 
concealing  it.  The  people  are  beginning  to  distrust  their  rulers 
— not  their  good  nature,  their  patriotism,  their  honesty,  but  their 
capacity  for  the  exigency  of  military  affairs.  They  know  that  in 
war  an  hour  often  carries  a  campaign  in  its  hand.  A  day  is  a 
year.  The  President  seems  to  be  a  man  without  any  sense  of 
the  value  of  time.  The  people  admire  his  disinterestedness. 
They  believe  him  firm  when  he  reaches  decisions.  But  they 
perceive  how  long  a  period  he  requires  to  form  judgments  ;  how 
wide  a  circuit  he  takes  of  uncertainty  and  vacillation  before  he 
determines.  In  civil  affairs,  that  can  bear  to  wait,  the  people 
deem  him  among  the  best  of  our  long  line  of  Presidents.  But 
it  is  war !  Armies  are  perishing.  Months  are  wasting.  We 
are  in  the  second  year  of  rebellion.  We  have  been  just  on  the 
eve  of  doing  something  for  sixteen  months  ! 

"  The  nation  rose  up  in  its  majesty  to  punish  rebellion.  It 
put  a  magnificent  army  into  the  President's  hand.  For  one  year 
that  army  was  besieged  in  the  capital  ! 

"  At  length,  this  past  spring,  began  the  campaign  in  Virginia. 
The  people  gloried  in  the  belief  that  the  majesty  of  the  gov- 
ernment would  be  asserted.  After  four  months'  campaign  the 
armies  of  the  United  States  are  on  the  defensive !  Not  less  than 
a  hundred  thousand  men  have  been  lost  by  death,  wounds,  sick- 
ness, and  captivity  ;  McClellan  is  cooped  up  on  James  River  ; 
Pope  is  collecting  an  army  ;  and  the  country  is  to-day  actually 
debating  whether  the  enemy  cannot  strike  a  blow  at  Washington  ! 
Is  this  such  a  management  as  will  confirm  the  confidence  of  the 


330  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

country  in  Mr.  Lincoln's  conduct  of  the  war  ?  Do  we  need  to 
ask  why  men  are  slow  to  volunteer  ?  Does  any  man  need  to 
be  told  what  the  end  of  such  things  must  be  ?  This  is  not  pun- 
ishing rebellion  ;   it  is  helping  it.    .   .  . 

"  We  speak  plainly,  sorrowfully,  earnestly.  An  enemy  of  the 
Administration  would  have  no  right  to  speak  so.  We  are  friends 
— all  the  more  because  we  speak  out  what  millions  think  but  do 
not  utter,  lest  it  might  hinder  the  cause.  But,  unless  some  one 
speaks,  there  will  soon  be  little  cause  left  to  hinder  or  to  help." 

In  the  next  issue,  that  of  July  24,  he  has  another  two-column 
editorial  upon  "  The  Duty  of  To-day  "  : 

"  In  the  beginning  of  this  great  struggle  the  question  among 
loyal  men  was,  How  shall  we  save  this  nation  ?  One  year  of 
fighting  and  the  question  is,  Whether  we  can  save  it  ?  That  is 
the  question  of  to-day.  .  .  . 

"  The  South  has  simplicity  and  unity  of  purpose.  The  North 
is  uncertain  which  she  wishes  most — to  subdue  the  rebellion,  to 
leave  slavery  unharmed,  or  to  have  the  right  President  at  the 
next  election  ! 

11  The  South  adjourns  every  question  and  postpones  every  in- 
terest in  favor  of  arms.  The  North  is  busy  with  conflicting 
schemes  and  interests — and  is  also  mildly  carrying  on  war. 

"  Does  anybody  doubt  the  result  of  such  a  course  ?  It  is  so 
certain  that  it  is  not  worth  our  while  to  waste  another  man  or  an- 
other dollar  !  Either  the  Administration  policy  should  instantly 
change  or  the  war  cease  !  It  is  not  more  vigor  so  much  as  a  dif- 
ferent internal  idea.  If  the  Administration  cannot  be  disenchant- 
ed of  the  traditional  policy  that  has  grown  up  during  the  heart- 
less, timid,  compromising  era  of  the  last  half-century,  and  adopt 
the  simple  and  straightforward  policy  that  becomes  a  people 
striving  for  liberty  and  free  institutions  upon  the  American  con- 
tinent, then  we  are  doomed  !  It  is  war  that  we  are  making — war 
first,  war  second,  war  wholly  !  It  is  not  politics.  It  is  not  Con- 
stitution-making. It  is  not  the  decision  of  legal  niceties.  These 
are  not  the  business  of  government,  as  toward  the  South.  It  is 
war,  absolute,  terrible,  and  immeasurable  war  ! 

"The  South  has  organized  on  the  fact  of  slavery,  and  fights 
on  that  issue,  pure  and  simple.  The  North  must  organize  on  the 
doctrine  of  liberty,  and  fight  right  through  on  that  issue,  pure  and 
simple. 


A'/:  J'.  I/EXRY  U\IKP  IUECIIER.  33  I 

"The  South  sacrifices  everything  that  conflicts  with  hei  cen- 
tral idea.     The   North   must   do   the    same.     The    South    is   not 

ashamed  of  slavery.      The  North  must  not  be  ashamed  of  liberty! 

"...  The  government  cannot  any  longer  avoid  choosing  the 
issue  that  has  been  made  up  and  thrust  upon  it— freedom  or  slav- 
ery. The  time  has  come.  So  long  as  there  was  a  chance  of 
solving  this  question  as  a  civil  question  it  was  wise  to  leave  it,  as 
far  as  possible,  to  the  States  concerned,  and  to  employ  the  moral 
influences  which  change  men's  minds.  But  slavery  has  become  a 
military  question.  One  year  has  changed  all  things.  A  remiss 
and  vacillating  policy  of  the  Administration  ;  the  committing  of 
the  armies  of  the  United  States  for  a  whole  year  to  a  man  who 
thought  he  was  at  West  Point  giving  a  four  years'  course  of  in- 
struction to  five  hundred  thousand  men  infinitely  at  leisure,  has 
changed  the  relations  and  possibilities  of  things.  It  has  taken 
slavery  out  of  the  realm  of  discussion  and  placed  it  in  the  arena 
of  war.     It  must  be  settled  by  force.  .  .  . 

"  Nothing  will  unite  this  people  like  a  bold  annunciation  of  a 
moral  principle.  Let  the  American  flag  be  lifted  up  by  Mr.  Lin- 
coln, as  was  the  brazen  serpent,  and  let  it  be  known  that  every 
man  who  looks  upon  it  on  this  continent  shall  be  free,  and  a 
tide  of  joy  and  irresistible  enthusiasm  will  sweep  away  every 
obstacle.     Let  Mr.  Lincoln  decree  it.     The  nation  will  do  it  ! 

"  Such  a  policy  would  carry  the  conscience  of  the  North  ; 
would  kindle  the  enthusiasm  for  liberty,  which  is  always  the  most 
potent  of  influences  ;  would  bring  all  the  historic  traditions  of 
the  old  American  struggle  to  enkindle  the  ardor  of  the  young, 
who  are  to  form  our  armies.  It  would  brush  away  at  one  stroke 
a  thousand  hindrances,  give  simplicity  and  unity  to  our  plans,  and 
distinctness  to  our  policy.  It  would  end  all  threat  of  foreign  in- 
tervention. Above  all,  it  would  give  to  the  American  armies 
that  pillar  of  smoke  by  day  and  fire  by  night  by  which  God  the 
Emancipator  led  forth  His  people  from  bondage  into  liberty  !  " 

In  the  next  issue,  July  31,  he  writes  a  two-column  editorial 
upon  "  The  Root  of  the  Matter  "  : 

"It  is  not  enough  that  we  increase  our  men  and  means.  We 
shall  never  succeed  until  we  accept  the  idea  latent  in  this  con- 
flict. Slavery  must  be  crushed.  Liberty  must  have  absolute  and 
unquestioned  dominion  on  this  continent.  We  will  not  have  op- 
pression under  the  symbol  of  a  sceptre  or  of  a  whip — neither  ex- 


332  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ported  from  abroad  nor  sprouting  from  our  own  soil  !  This 
continent  is  dedicated  to  Liberty.  It  is  the  mission  of  this  gene- 
ration of  men  to  establish  free  institutions  from  ocean  to  ocean. 
We  sought  to  do  it  in  peace.  Since  war  has  come,  we  will  seek 
to  take  from  its  repulsiveness  and  horror  by  making  it  serve  the 
noblest  ends  of  human  liberty.  If  it  is  for  liberty  upon  a  whole 
continent  that  we  fight,  then  every  son  or  brother  that  falls  is 
a  sacrificial  victim.  By  his  blood  we  ransom  generations  of 
men  ! 

"  The  way  to  make  the  Administration  see  this  truth  is  to  see 
it  ourselves.  There  is  a  kind  of  political  mesmerism.  Our 
rulers  will  partake  of  our  sensations.  What  the  people  see  the 
President  will  see.  What  the  people  taste  will  repeat  itself  on 
the  President's  tongue. 

"  Let  the  sentence  be  spoken.  Let  all  hindrances  and  hesita- 
tions end.  Lift  up  the  banner  !  And  as  the  winds  of  war  roll 
out  its  folds,  let  those  letters  shine  out  as  if  God  had  written 
them  with  heavenly  light,  'Universal  Emancipation.'" 

The  next  editorial,  August  7,  is  upon  "A  Leader  for  the 
People."  These  were  the  days  of  Pope  and  the  disasters  of  the 
army,  and  the  uncertainty  and  terror  at  Washington.  Two  col- 
umns of  argument  and  appeal  for  more  genuine  enthusiasm  for 
the  great  doctrines  on  which  this  government  was  founded 
close  with  a  prayer,  the  only  relief  of  a  heart  bursting  with  a 
mighty  passion  of  sorrow  and  impatience  : 

"  Great  God,  what  a  people  hast  Thou  brought  forth  upon 
this  continent  !  What  love  of  liberty  ;  what  heroic  love  of  law 
and  institution  ;  what  courage,  and  constancy,  and  self-sacrifice 
hast  Thou  given  them  !  And  no  man  is  found  to  lead  this  so 
great  a  nation  !  Be  Thou  Leader !  Lord  God  of  Hosts,  hast 
Thou  forgotten  how  to  lead  a  people  ?  There  are  no  ages  on 
Thy  head  !  Years  make  Thee  neither  old  nor  weary  !  Behind 
Thy  unwrinkled  brow  no  care  dwells  !  Teach  this  people  to 
need  no  other  leader  but  Thyself  !  Then,  led  by  Thee,  teach 
them  to  be  all-sufficient  for  every  deed  of  justice,  and  omnipo- 
tent  for  liberty  !  " 

These  are  followed,  August  14,  by  a  three-column  editorial 
upon  "  The  Time  has  Come  "  : 

"  We  have  been  made  irresolute,  indecisive,  and  weak  by  the 
President's   attempt   to  unite   impossibilities  ;  to   make  war  and 


A'F.r.  HENRI    WARD  BEECHER.  333 

keep  the  peace  ;  to  strike  hard  and  not  hurt  ;  to  invade  sover- 
eign States  and  not  meddle  with  their  sovereignty  ;  to  put  down 
rebellion  without  touching  its  cause  ;  to  bring  an  infuriated 
people  into  enforced  union  with  their  enemies,  and  to  leave  all 
their  causes  of  quarrels  unsettled  and  vigorous,  and  yet  hope  for 
future  concord. 

"  Thus  far  the  conservative  North  has  been  striving  to  con- 
duct this  war  so  as  not  to  meddle  with  the  so-called  Southern 
right  of  slavery.  But,  in  spite  of  every  scruple,  events  have 
crowded  men  to  the  necessity  of  confiscation  and  emancipation. 
There  is  one  more  step.  It  is  the  last  sublime  step  toward  na- 
tional safety  and  national  Christian  glory.  It  is  immediate  and 
universal  emancipation  !  " 

In  the  next  issue,  August  21,  is  another  article,  upon  "The 
Only  Ground,"  of  the  same  temper,  urging  the  same  plea: 

"  The  President  has  the  right  and  power  to  destroy  slavery. 
Let  him  account  to  the  civilized  world  for  not  doing  it." 

And  another  August  28,  upon  "  Reconstruction  "  : 

11  Since,  then,  the  old  Union  is  de  facto  ceased,  and  all  the 
local  rights  lapsed  by  rebellion  to  the  hands  of  the  government, 
and  it  is  to  reconstruct  the  Union,  would  it  be  a  stretch  of  author- 
ity in  the  government  so  to  reconstruct  it  as  to  insure  its  perpetu- 
ity by  purging  out  all  possible  cause  of  future  discord?  The 
President  has  the  authority.  He  is  exercising  it  every  day.  All 
that  we  ask  is  that  he  will  look  forward  and  not  backward ;  that 
he  will  consider  the  nation  of  the  future,  and  not  mere  precedents 
in  the  past.  ...  To  put  down  rebellion  first,  and  attend  to  slavery 
afterwards,  is  letting  two  serpents  uncoil  that  may  as  well  be 
stricken  through  with  one  blow." 

The  preacher's  pulpit  is  in  perfect  accord  with  the  editor's 
chair.  In  a  sermon  of  July  27,  1862,  he  says:  "God  has  been 
pleased  to  bring  this  nation  at  this  time  into  great  trials  that  are  to 
test  the  faith  of  all  true  men.  I  think  that  we  have  not  by  a  long 
way  touched  bottom  yet.  I  think  that  the  wind  has  not  yet  blown 
its  fiercest.  There  are  blacker  clouds  than  those  that  have  yet 
expended  their  fury.  I  cast  no  confidence  away.  I  do  not  know 
that  we  are  to  succeed  to-day  or  to-morrow  ;  but.  we  are  going  to 
succeed.  I  do  not  know  that  we  are  going  to  succeed  in  Virginia 
for  the  present,  but  we  are  a-going  to  succeed  in  America.' 

"  When  I  die  there  will  be  a  great  many  things  that,  if  I  have 


334  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

time  to  think  of  them,  I  may  be  sorry  for.  After  I  die  there 
may  be  a  great  many  inconsistencies,  a  great  many  sins,  a  great 
many  unperformed  duties  that,  when  I  behold  them  in  retro- 
spect, I  shall  regret.  But  I  tell  you  that,  whether  in  the  passage 
of  death,  or  at  the  gate  of  heaven,  or  before  God's  eternal  throne, 
I  never  expect  to  be  sorry  that  I  have  preached  so  often  and  so 
strongly  in  behalf  of  those  that  were  in  bonds  ;  that  I  have  spoken, 
as  I  have  had  opportunity,  for  those  that  could  not  speak  for 
themselves  ;  that  I  have  roused  up,  according  to  the  measure  of 
my  influence,  the  whole  community  to  vindicate  the  cause  of  God 
toward  His  oppressed  ones.  I  shall  not  be  sorry  for  that.  I 
shall  be  sorry  that  I  have  not  done  more  ;  but  I  never  shall  be 
sorry  that  I  have  done  so  much. 

"  And  my  faith  in  this  cause  was  never  so  strong  as  it  is  now. 
J  do  not  throw  it  away.  I  feel  certain  that  if  the  will  of  God  is 
done  in  this  matter,  though  we  may  have  to  wait,  we  shall  have 
great  recompense  of  reward  in  waiting. 

"  May  God  inspire  the  hearts  of  our  rulers  by  the  right  things! 
May  God  unite  the  hearts  of  this  great  people  in  right  counsels 
and  in  right  feelings  !  May  God  accept  the  offerings  that  we 
make  of  our  children,  of  our  brothers,  of  our  neighbors,  of  every- 
thing that  we  have  !  Let  us  put  them  all  on  the  altar  of  patriot- 
ism, knowing  that  in  this  case  the  altar  of  patriotism  is  the  altar 
of  God.  He  will  accept  the  offering,  and  in  His  own  time,  by 
tokens  infallible,  He  will  reward  our  faith  and  bring  us  forth 
purged,  purified,  strengthened  by  the  things  which  we  have  suf- 
fered." 

With  all  his  earnestness  he  must  have  his  laugh  at  a  contem- 
porary, "  A  Queer  Pulpit"  : 

"  We  knew  that  the  Journal  of  Comme7'ce  was  famous  upon 
statistics  and  prided  itself  upon  its  good  literary  taste.  But  we 
had  no  idea  before  of  the  powers  of  its  rhetoric.  We  extract  a 
figure  from  its  issue  of  August  27  that  should  be  commended  to 
the  directors  of  the  New  York  Hospital  : 

" '  It  is  the  voice  of  a  glorious  past  which  speaks  to  him,  in 
the  tones  of  the  fathers  whose  graves  are  with  us.  It  is  the  voice 
of  the  living  nation,  millions  on  millions  of  whom  utter  the  same 
words  we  utter  to-day.  It  is  the  voice  of  posterity,  speaking  from 
the  womb  of  time,  that  calls  on  him  to  save  the  Constitution,  which 
was  made,  not  for  the  duration  of  a  human  life,  but  to  be  the 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  335 

blessing  of  all  men  and  all  nations  until   the  end  of  thrones  and 

earthly  powers.  That  he  will  he  faithful  we  do  not  tor  one  in- 
stant doubt.' 

"This  is  taking  part  in  polities  rather  early.  Constitution.il 
studies  must  be  pursued  under  difficulties  in  this  case.  But  if 
posterity  are  so  greatly  stirred  in  their  minds,  there  is  nothing 
tor  it  but  for  the  President  to  write  them  a  letter.  He  answered 
Horace  Greeley.  Surely  he  will  heed  the  sufferings  of  posterity 
in  such  uncomfortable  quarters. 

u  For  ourselves,  we  cannot  be  too  thankful  that  we  are  al- 
ready born.  We  prefer  open-air  speaking.  If  the  President 
don't  save  the   Constitution  now,  it  is  a  hopeless  case  !  " 

In  an  editorial,  September  11,  upon  "  The  Contrast,"  he  sums 
up  the  difference  in  sentences  like  these  : 

'k  Richmond  determines,  Washington  reasons  ;  Richmond  is 
inflexible,  Washington  vacillates  ;  Richmond  knows  what  it 
wants  to  do,  Washington  wishes  that  it  knew  ;  Richmond  loves 
slavery  and  hates  liberty,  Washington  is  somewhat  partial  to  lib- 
erty and  rather  dislikes  slavery  ;  Rebellion  is  wise  and  sinful, 
Government  is  foolish." 

Upon  a  report  that  a  member  of  the  Cabinet  had  said 
14  that  nations  often  lose  their  institutions,  their  liberties,  and  yet 
preserve  their  national  life,  and  that  in  our  case  we  must  aim  to 
preserve  the  national  life,"  he  writes  an  editorial  (September  18, 
1862)  which  he  properly  entitled  "The  Trumpet": 

"...  Let  other  people  imagine  as  they  may  a  national  life, 
like  a  disembodied  spirit,  wandering  over  the  continent  seeking 
rest  and  finding  none.  We  propose  no  such  issue  to  this  strug- 
gle. The  nation  must  emerge  from  war  shorn  of  no  attribute 
and  mutilated  in  none  of  its  members.  We  claim  this  continent 
for  liberty.  We  demand  the  execution  of  slavery  for  treason. 
We  arraign  this  arch-conspirator,  arrested  with  a  dagger  in  its 
hand  aimed  at  the  life  of  this  government  and  the  liberties  of  the 
people,  and  in  the  name  of  mankind  and  before  Almighty  God 
we  demand  that  its  life  be  forfeited.     Let  the  trumpet  sound  !  " 

These  are  but  samples  of  the  editorials  that  were  sent  out 
from  his  pen  through  the  columns  of  the  Independe?it.  Week 
after  week  they  continued,  pleading  for  vigor,  denouncing  inac- 
tion, urging  that  liberty  be  recognized  as  the  great  issue  at  stake, 
and  demanding  immediate  emancipation  of  the  slave. 


336  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

At  last,  afte*r  this  long,  weary,  heart-breaking  delay,  he  pub- 
lishes, September  25,  "The  Proclamation"  of  the  President  an- 
nouncing "  that  on  the  first  day  of  January,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  sixty-three,  all  persons 
held  as  slaves  within  any  State,  or  any  designated  part  of  a  State, 
the  people  whereof  shall  then  be  in  rebellion  against  the  United 
States,  shall  be  thenceforward  and  for  ever  free."  Mr.  Beecher 
says  of  it : 

"  We  send  forth  to-day  the  most  important  paper  ever  pub- 
lished in  the  Ifidependent,  the  most  extraordinary  document  ever 
proceeding  from  this  government.  .  .  . 

"  No  more  guises  and  veils.  No  more  side-issues.  No  more 
deceitful  compromises.  The  government  has  taken  ground,  and 
every  man  in  the  nation  must  take  ground.  You  are  for  or 
against  this  government,  and  this  government  is  declared  to 
mean  liberty  to  the  slave  !  There  is  no  neutral  ground  for  trai- 
tors to  hide  in,  playing  wolf  at  night  and  sheep  by  day.  The 
President's  proclamation  will  sift  the  North,  give  unity  to  its 
people,  simplicity  to  its  policy,  liberty  to  its  army  !  That  whole 
army  is  no  longer  a  mongrel  something  between  a  police  force 
and  a  political  caucus.  It  is  an  army  organized  to  strike  where 
blows  will  be  most  felt. 

"  The  Proclamation  emancipates  slaves  in  thrice  thirty  days. 
But  it  emancipates  the  government  and  the  army  to-day.  The 
nation  is  freer  than  it  was  on  the  21st.  We  have  a  policy.  The 
people  will  base  it  upon  a  principle.  It  is  the  policy  of  lib- 
erty upon  the  principle  of  justice.  The  future  is  before  us  ! 
Through  what  dark  days  we  must  pass  we  know  not.  What  bat- 
tles and  what  reverses  are  in  store  we  do  not  inquire.  At  last 
we  have  a  right  to  believe  that  God  is  leading  us.  He  who  car- 
ried His  people  from  bondage  through  the  wilderness,  and  estab- 
lished them  in  the  promised  land,  can  surely  guide  us  ! 

"  Let  sorrows  fall  fast ;  there  is  joy  before  us  !  We  behold 
upon  the  troubled  sea  a  Christ  coming  to  us,  walking  on  the 
waves  !  In  His  hand  are  winds  and  storms.  Every  hour  now 
moves  toward  the  great  day  of  Emancipation.  At  length  the 
dawn  shall  bring  that  day  most  eminent  in  our  national  calendar. 
Amid  all  the  festivities  that  usher  in  the  year,  there  shall  be  a 
great  joy,  deeper,  purer,  holier  than  ever  came  to  us  with  the  New 
Year — the  joy  of  a  nation  that,  after  long  sorrow  and  shame,  shall 


-.  HI  NRY  ll'.l RD  BEE t 'HER,  $$J 

ofl   from  itseli  the  guilt  of  slavery,  and  stand  erccl  before 
the  world  a  consistent  witness  for  libert)  j" 

He  looks  upon  it  vis  the  beginning  of  the  end,  and  is  satisfied 
it  it  be  God's  will  that  his  work  should  now  cease.  On  the  even- 
ing ot*  the  last  day  of  slavery  in  America — Wednesday  evening, 
December  3 1 — he  says  in  his  lecture-room  talk: 

"  As  for  myself,  let  come  what  will  come,  I  rare  not.  God 
may  peel  me,  and  bark  me,  and  strip  me  of  my  leaves,  and  do  as 
He  chooses  with  my  earthly  estate.  I  have  lived  long  enough  ; 
I  have  had  a  good  time.  You  cannot  take  back  the  blows  I 
have  given  the  devil  right  in  the  face.  I  have  uttered  some- 
words  that  will  not  die,  because  they  are  incorporated  into  the 
lives  of  men  that  will  not  die.  Through  my  instrumentality, 
aided  by  God's  providence,  many  souls  have  been  converted  and 
gone  singing  home  to  their  eternal  abode.  I  think  I  have  a  larger 
church  in  heaven  than  I  have  on  earth,  and  I  think  they  love  me 
and  want  me  there.  I  have  no  reason  to  ask  for  longer  life.  If 
my  work  is  done,  and  God  does  not  want  me  here,  and  this  is  my 
last  night  of  labor  on  earth,  ought  I  to  be  sorry  ?  Ought  I  not 
to  be  the  most  grateful  man  that  ever  lived  that  I  have  had  such 
health,  that  I  have  had  such  an  open  field,  that  I  have  had  the 
privilege  of  speaking  the  truth  right  straight  along  for  fifteen 
years,  whether  men  would  hear  or  whether  they  would  forbear, 
and  that  I  have  been  borne  up,  in  doing  this,  by  so  large 
a  church,  composed  of  such  an  enthusiastic  body  of  God's 
people  ? 

"  And  to-night  the  shadows  of  the  past  come  over  me.  I  re- 
member when  I  first  stood,  in  about  this  place,  in  the  old  church. 
I  remember  the  sermon  that  I  preached  to  you  on  the  first  Sunday 
night  after  I  came  among  you,  as  if  it  were  but  an  hour  ago.  I 
then  declared  to  the  inchoate  congregation  gathered  here  that 
it  was  my  purpose  to  preach  the  Gospel  in  its  applications  to 
slavery,  and  peace,  and  war,  and  moral  purity,  and  every  Chris- 
tian reform,  and  that  I  would  do  it  whether  you  heard  it  or  not, 
and  whether  you  stood  by  me  or  forsook  me.  I  recollect  those 
times  perfectly  well. 

"  Fifteen  years  have  passed  since  then,  and  here  we  are  talk- 
ing about  the  President  of  the  United  States  emancipating  four 
million  slaves.  Here  we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  war  whose  inevit- 
able outcome  from   this  time  must  be  to  make  war  on  slavery. 


338  REV.   HEXRY   WARD  BEECHER. 

Mightier  than  Congress  now  is  the  arm  for  emancipation — mightier 
than  all  things  !  In  the  providence  of  God  what  wonderful  revo- 
lutions and  changes  have  taken  place  in  fifteen  years  !  I  am 
willing  to  live  fifteen  years  more,  if  God  wishes  it,  if  I  may  renew 
my  youth  and  work  on.  I  should  dread  to  find  now  that  there 
were  no  more  locks  to  get  up,  and  that  I  must  henceforth  travel 
on  a  dead  level.  I  would  try  and  pull  with  my  freight-boat  on  a 
level,  if  God  wished  me  to,  though  I  would  like  here  and  there 
to  rise.  It  would  be  a  pleasure  to  live,  if  it  were  God's  will,  till 
the  day-star  dawned,  for  I  know  it  will  dawn,  but  I  am  willing 
to  lay  down  my  burden  at  any  time,  if  it  please  God.  If  He  will 
accept  the  thanks  that  I  give  Him  for  all  that  He  has  permitted 
me  to  do,  to  say,  and  experience  in  days  past,  then,  as  to  the 
future,  let  His  will  be  done.     I  ask  neither  to  live  nor  to  die." 

This  closes  the  third  era  of  his  work  in. the  great  anti-slavery 
contest.  We  now  turn  back  to  glance  over  the  same  period  and 
note  some  of  the  more  important  events  aside  from  this  strug- 
gle, public,  domestic,  and  private,  that  marked  the  years  from 
1850  to  January,  1863. 


CHAP  IKK    XVII. 

First  Voyage  lo  England— Extracts  from  Diary — Warwick  Castle — Strat- 
ford-on- Avon— The  Skylark— Oxford — Hod  lei  an  Library— London — 
Old-time  Sadness— Paris— Catch-Words  from  Diary— Effect  of  Pic- 
ture-Gallery— The   Louvre — His   Return. 

IN  the  middle  of  the  year  1850  his  labors  were  interrupted. 
"Henry    Ward    Beecher,   our  esteemed    brother,  sailed   for 

Europe  on  Tuesday,  July  9,  in  the  ship  New  World,  Captain 
Knight.  It  was  a  sudden  move,  but  having  received  a  friendly 
invitation  from  the  captain,  and  taking  the  adviee  of  his  friends 
that  a  voyage  out  and  back  would  be  of  essential  benefit  to  his 
health,  which  has  been  considerably  shattered  by  repeated  attacks 
of  illness,  he  accepted  the  invitation,  but  expects  to  return  with 
the  vessel.  During  his  absence  the  pulpit  of  Plymouth  Church 
will  be  supplied  by  the  pastor's  younger  brother,  Rev.  Charles 
Beecher,  of  Indiana."  This  item  we  find  in  the  Independent  of 
that  week  : 

"  Journal. — Landed  from  New  World  July  30,1850.  Water- 
loo Inn." 

This  is  the  first  entry  in  a  memorandum-book  now  in  our. 
hands,  and  it  tells  its  own  story.     He  is  in  Liverpool,  England. 

We  have  spoken  of  Mr.  Beecher's  perfect  health,  and  such 
he  enjoyed,  for  the  most  part,  through  life.  But  it  was  only  re- 
tained, after  he  came  to  Brooklyn,  by  great  care  on  his  part.  Be- 
fore he  had  learned  the  necessity  of  this  there  had  been  several 
failures.  One  was  an  attack  of  erysiphaltic  fever,  in  the  spring 
of  1849,  which  kept  him  out  of  his  pulpit  for  several  months. 
During  the  following  winter  he  had  a  severe  attack  of  quinsy, 
from  the  exhaustion  of  which  it  seemed  to  his  friends  that  he 
was  breaking  down,  and  they  procured  passage  for  him  to 
Europe,  as  has  just  been  stated,  and  gave  him  a  three  months' 
leave  of  absence. 

Another  experience  now  opened  to  him.  The  sea,  out  upon 
which  he  had  so  often  looked  with  longing  eyes,  in  boyhood, 
from  the  wharves  of  Boston,  and  across  whose  waters  he  had 
often  sailed  in  imagination,  he  now,  for  the  first  time,  traversed 

339 


340  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

in  reality.  He  found  it  far  less  agreeable  than  he  expected,  and 
learned  on  this  his  first  voyage,  what  no  after-experience  ever 
contradicted,  that  for  him  "  the  only  pleasant  thing  about  going 
to  sea  was  the  going  ashore." 

From  his  note-book  and  diary  we  can  follow  him,  step  by 
step,  and  from  his  letters  to  friends  can  learn  of  some  of  those 
experiences  that  made  this  trip  memorable  in  its  impressions 
and  influence.     The  next  entry  in  his  journal  reads  : 

"July  31,  Manchester  and  back.  Hedges  same  as  combed 
and  uncombed  hair.  Railroad  mile-posts  subdivided  ;  grading  in 
manufacturing  villages.  Go  out  from  London  under  ground, 
come  into  Manchester  over  tops  of  houses.  Clothes-line  across 
streets. 

"  August  3,  Birmingham  ;  railroad  stations.  Knight  says 
thirty-three  ocean  steamers  have  been  put  afloat  in  eighteen 
months  ;  only  the  Bremen  steamers  before  afloat. 

"Plated  Ware. — Pattern  dies,  stamping,  handles,  etc.;  spoons, 
forks,  plain  piece,  cut  shape,  then  slit  tines,  stamp  shape  ;  filing- 
room,  polishing,  chasing  or  fretting,  plating,  brushing.  Designer 
gets  £2  to  £2  10/  per  week." 

This  is  the  first  page  of  his  note-book,  and  is  given  entire,  not 
because  there  is  anything  remarkable  about  it,  but  because  it  is 
a  sample  of  his  note-books  in  general.  They  are  full  of  facts, 
and  facts  of  every  description.  He  seldom  gives  impressions 
or  sentiments.  He  has  a  hunger  for  all  kinds  of  items  ;  give  him 
these  and  the  sentiments  will  take  care  of  themselves.  Occa- 
sionally he  concludes  with  a  description  that  sets  the  items 
in  some  higher  relation  and  shows  the  processes  that  are  going 
on  in  his  own  mind  ;  as  when,  after  giving  some  dozen  particulars 
in  the  process  of  manufacturing  papier-mache,  he  closes  the  list 
of  catch-words  with  this  :  "  It  is  the  art  of  creating  plastic  wood. 
It  grows  by  hand  and  not  by  vegetable  vitality,  then  hardens  and 
receives  Art" 

But  it  was  not  items  alone  that  he  learned  in  his  travels ;  he 
became  familiar  with  objects  of  which  he  had  read,  and  gained 
inspiration  from  a  more  intimate  acquaintance.  In  Warwick 
Castle  and  Kenil worth  he  walked  among  scenes  made  vivid  to  him 
in  his  youth  in  the  pages  of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  He  entered,  as  he 
said,  "  into  the  very  life  of  that  olden  time,  and  took  from  it  its 
good  without  tasting  its  evil," 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHMR.  341 

Caesar's  Tower,  winch  had  stood  for  eight  hundred  years,  co- 
CTal  with  the  Norman  Conquest,  especially  aroused  his  imagina- 
tion : 

"  I  stood  upon  its  mute  stones  and  imagined  the  ring  of  the 
hammer  upon  them  when  the  mason  was  laying  them  to  their  bed 
of  ages.  What  were  the  thoughts,  the  fancies,  the  conversations 
of  these  rude  fellows  at  that  age  of  the  world  ?  I  was  wafted 
backward,  and  backward,  until  I  stood  on  the  foundations  upon 
which  old  England  herself  was  builded,  when  as  yet  there  was 
none  of  her.  There,  far  back  of  all  literature,  before  the  English 
tongue  itself  was  formed,  earlier  than  her  jurisprudence  and 
than  all  modern  civilization,  I  stood  in  imagination,  and,  revers- 
ing my  vision,  looked  down  into  a  far  future  to  search  for  the  men 
and  deeds  which  had  been,  as  if  they  were  yet  to  be  ;  thus 
making  a  prophecy  of  history,  and  changing  memory  into  a 
dreamy  foresight. 

"  Against  these  stones,  on  which  I  lay  my  hand,  have  rung 
the  sounds  of  battle.  Yonder,  on  these  very  grounds,  there  raged, 
in  sight  of  men  that  stand  where  I  do,  fiercest  and  deadliest  con- 
flicts.    All  this  ground  has  fed  on  blood.   .  .  . 

"  I  walked  across  to  Guy's  Tower,  up  its  long  stone  stair- 
way, into  some  of  its  old  soldiers'  rooms.  The  pavements  were 
worn,  though  of  stone,  with  the  heavy,  grinding  feet  of  men-at- 
arms.  I  heard  them  laugh  between  their  cups,  I  saw  them  de- 
vouring their  gross  food,  I  heard  them  recite  their  feats,  or  tell 
the  last  news  of  some  knightly  outrage  or  cruel  oppression  of  the 
despised  laborer.  I  stood  by  the  window  out  of  which  the 
archer  sent  his  whistling  arrows.  I  stood  by  the  openings 
through  which  scalding  water  or  molten  lead  was  poured  upon 
the  heads  of  the  assailants,  and  heard  the  hoarse  shriek  of  the 
wretched  fellows  who  got  the  shocking  baptism.  I  ascended  to 
the  roof  of  the  tower,  and  looked  over  the  wide  glory  of  the 
scene,  still  haunted  with  the  same  imaginations  of  olden  time. 
How  many  thoughts  had  flown  hence  besides  mine ! — here  where 
warriors  looked  out  or  ladies  watched  for  their  knights'  return. 
How  did  I  long  to  stand  for  one  hour,  really,  in  their  position 
and  in  their  consciousness  who  lived  in  those  days  ;  and  then 
to  come  back,  with  the  new  experience,  to  my  modern  self  !  " 

In  this  is  shown  his  sympathy  with  the  old  Saxon  yeomanry, 
and  was  his  Saxon  ancestry  taking  voice  ;  all  the  romantic,  pictur- 


342  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

esque  elements  of  his  nature  were  fed,  and  ran,  like  the  streams  of 
springtide,  full-banked  to  the  sea. 

We  next  find  in  his  note-book  these  items  and  references  : 

"Approach  to  Stratford-on-Avon.  How  peaceful  the  associa- 
tions in  contrast  with  those  of  Warwick  and  Kenilworth  ! " 

"  The  place  :  old  English  houses  ;   Red  Horse  Inn." 

"  Birds :  thrush,  lark,  nightingale,  sparrow,  robin,  starling, 
rooks,  cuckoo." 

"  A  different  but,  to  me,  even  greater  interest  attaches  to  Avon 
from  the  throngs  from  every  nation  that  have  visited  it." 

"  Shakspere  :  eleven  years  old  when  Elizabeth  visited  Kenil- 
worth." 

"  No  greater  change  can  be  imagined  than  from  the  warlike 
towers  of  Guy  of  Warwick  to  the* quiet  home  of  Shakspere,  Strat- 
ford-on-Avon." The  change  in  his  experience  was  equally 
marked.  In  the  one  the  martial  spirit  of  the  warrior,  in  the 
other  the  loving,  receptive  spirit  of  the  prophet  and  poet,  were 
aroused  and  fed.  In  Stratford-on-Avon  he  had  one  of  those  lu- 
minous hours  which  were,  in  his  experience,  like  Mountains  of 
Transfiguration. 

In  a  letter  to  a  friend  describing  a  Sabbath  here,  written  at 
this  time,  he  says  : 

"  The  scenes  of  Saturday  had  fired  me  ;  every  visit  to  various 
points  in  Stratford-on-Avon  added  to  the  inspiration,  until,  as  I 
sallied  forth  to  church,  I  seemed  not  to  have  a  body.  I  could 
hardly  feel  my  feet  striking  against  the  ground  ;  it  was  as  if  I 
were  numb.  But  my  soul  was  clear,  penetrating,  and  exquisitely 
susceptible.  .  .  . 

"I  had  been  anxious  lest  some  Cowper's  ministerial  fop 
should  officiate,  and  the  sight  of  this  aged  man  was  good.  The 
form  of  his  face  and  head  indicated  firmness,  but  his  features  were 
suffused  with  an  expression  of  benevolence. 

"  He  ascended  the  reading-desk  and  the  services  began.  You 
know  my  mother  was,  until  her  marriage,  in  the  communion  of 
the  Episcopal  Church.  This  thought  hardly  left  me  while  I  sat, 
grateful  for  the  privilege  of  worshipping  God  through  a  service 
that  had  expressed  so  often  her  devotions.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  was  affected.  I  had  never  had  such  a  trance  of  worship, 
and  I  shall  never  have  such  another  view  until  I  gain  the  Gate. 

"  I  am  so  ignorant  of  the  church  service   that  I  cannot  call 


a/'/-.  J//.\A'Y  WARD  BEECHEk.  3.J3 

the  various  parts  by  their  right  names,  but  the  portions  which 
most  affected  me  were  the  prayers  and  responses  which  the  choir 
sang.  I  had  never  heard  any  part  of  a  supplication,  a  direct 
prayer,  chanted  by  a  choir,  and  it  seemed  as  though  I  heard  not 
with  my  car  but  with  my  soul.  1  was  dissolved  ;  my  whole  being 
seemed  to  me  like  an  incense  wafted  gratefully  toward  God. 
The  divine  presence  rose  before  me  in  wondrous  majesty,  but  of 
ineffable  gentleness  and  goodness,  and  1  could  not  stay  away 
from  more  familiar  approach,  but  seemed  irresistibly  yet  gently 
drawn  toward  God.  My  soul,  then  thou  didst  magnify  the  Lord 
and  rejoice  in  the  God  of  thy  salvation  !  And  then  came  to  my 
mind  the  many  exultations  of  the  Psalms  of  David,  and  never 
before  were  the  expressions  and  figures  so  noble  and  so  neces- 
sary to  express  what  I  felt.  I  had  risen,  it  seemed  to  me,  so  high 
as  to  be  where  David  was  when  his  soul  conceived  the  things 
which  he  wrote.  Throughout  the  service — and  it  was  an  hour 
and  a  quarter  long — whenever  an  '  Amen  ! '  occurred  it  was  given 
by  the  choir  accompanied  by  the  organ  and  the  congregation. 
Oh  !  that  swell  and  solemn  cadence  rings  in  my  ear  yet! 

"  Not  once,  not  a  single  time,  did  it  occur  in  that  service  with- 
out bringing  tears  from  my  eyes.  I  stood  like  a  shrub  on  a 
spring  morning — every  leaf  covered  with  dew,  and  every  breeze 
shook  down  some  drops.  I  trembled  so  much  at  times  that  I 
was  obliged  to  sit  down.  Oh  !  when  in  the  prayers,  breathed 
forth  in  strains  of  sweet,  simple,  solemn  music,  the  love  of  Christ 
was  recognized,  how  I  longed  then  to  give  utterance  to  what  that 
love  seemed  to  me.  There  was  a  moment  in  which  the  heavens 
seemed  opened  to  me  and  I  saw  the  glory  of  God  !  All  the 
earth  seemed  to  me  a  store-house  of  images  made  to  set  forth  the 
Redeemer,  and  I  could  scarcely  be  still  from  crying  out.  I  never 
knew,  I  never  dreamed  before  of  what  heart  there  was  in  that 
word  amen.  Every  time  it  swelled  forth  and  died  away  solemn- 
ly, not  my  lips,  not  my  mind,  but  my  whole  being  said  :  '  Saviour, 
so  let  it  be.' 

"  The  sermon  was  preparatory  to  the  communion,  which  I 
then  first  learned  was  to  be  celebrated.  It  was  plain  and  good  ; 
and  although  the  rector  had  done  many  things  in  a  way  that  led 
me  to  suppose  that  he  sympathized  with  over-much  ceremony, 
yet  in  his  sermon  he  seemed  evangelical  and  gave  a  right  view 
of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


344  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  went  forward  to  commune  in 
an  Episcopal  church.  Without  any  intent  of  my  own,  but  be- 
cause from  my  seat  it  was  nearest,  I  knelt  down  at  the  altar,  with 
the  dust  of  Shakspere  beneath  my  feet.  I  thought  of  it  as  I 
thought  of  ten  thousand  other  things,  without  the  least  disturb- 
ance of  devotion.  It  seemed  as  if  I  stood  upon  a  place  so  high 
that,  like  one  looking  over  a  wide  valley,  all  objects  conspired  to 
make  but  one  view.  I  thought  of  the  General  Assembly  and 
Church  of  the  First-Born,  of  my  mother  and  brother  and  chil- 
dren in  heaven,  of  my  living  family  on  earth,  of  you,  of  the  whole 
church  entrusted  to  my  hands — they  afar  off,  I  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Avon." 

He  did  not  forget  his  old  friends,  birds  and  trees.  From 
Stratford-on-Avon  he  writes  : 

"  As  I  stood  looking  over  on  the  masses  of  foliage  and  the 
single  trees  dotted  in  here  and  there,  I  could  see  every  shade  of 
green,  and  all  of  them  most  beautiful,  and  as  refreshing  to  me  as 
old  friends.  After  standing  awhile  to  take  a  last  view  of  Strat- 
ford-on-Avon from  this  high  ground  and  the  beautiful  slopes 
around  it,  and  of  the  meadows  of  the  Avon,  I  began  to  walk 
homeward,  when  I  heard  such  an  outbreak  behind  me  as  wheeled 
me  about  quick  enough.  There  he  flew,  singing  as  he  rose,  and 
rising  gradually,  not  directly  up,  but  with  gentle  slope — there  was 
the  free-singing  lark,  not  half  so  happy  to  sing  as  I  was  to  hear. 
In  a  moment  more  he  had  reached  the  summit  of  his  ambition 
and  suddenly  fell  back  to  the  grass  again.  And  now  if  you 
laugh  at  my  enthusiasm  I  will  pity  you  for  the  want  of  it.  I  have 
heard  one  poet's  lark,  if  I  never  hear  another,  and  am  much  hap- 
pier for  it." 

At  Oxford  a  new  world  opened  to  him — that  of  an  English 
university  town  enriched  with  the  growth  and  associations  of 
seven  hundred  years.  The  beauty  of  its  architecture,  its  clois- 
tered quiet,  its  galleries,  and,  most  of  all,  its  libraries,  impressed 
him. 

"  Few  places  affect  me  more  than  libraries,  and  especially  the 
Bodleian  Library,  reputed  to  have  half  a  million  printed  books 
and  manuscripts.  I  walked  solemnly  and  reverently  among  the 
alcoves  and  through  the  halls,  as  if  in  the  pyramid  of  embalmed 
souls.  It  was  their  life,  their  heart,  their  mind,  that  they  trea- 
sured in  these  book-urns.      Silent  as   they   are,    should   all  the 


A7  /  .  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER,  3.J5 

emotions  that  went  to  their  creation  have  utterance,  could  the 
world  itself  contain  the  various  sounds?  They  longed  for  tame! 
Here  it  is — to  stand  silently  for  ages,  moved  only  to  be  dusted  and 
catalogued,  valued  only  as  units  in  the  ambitious  total,  and  gazed 
at  occasionally  by  men  ignorant  as  I  am  ot"  their  name,  their 
place,  their  language,  and  their  worth.  Indeed,  unless  a  man  can 
link  his  written  thoughts  with  the  everlasting  wants  of  men,  so 
that  they  shall  draw  from  them  as  from  wells,  there  is  no  more 
immortality  to  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  soul  than  to  the 
muscles  and  the  bones.  A  library  is  but  the  soul's  burial-ground. 
It  is  the  land  of  shadows." 

It  was,  however,  not  all  shadowy. 

"Noon  Refection. — 'What  will  you  taker  to  drink,  Oxford 
ale  or  a  little  wine  ?'  Cold  water.  '  Oh  !  not  cold  water,  surely? 
A  little  sherry  and  water? '  *  Surely  you  will  not  come  to  England 
to  drink  cold  water  ? '  My  dear  sir,  I  am  a  thorough-going  teeto- 
taler, and  you  surely  would  not  have  me  come  to  England  to  lose 
my  good  principles  ?  'Why,  sir,  I  am  not  a  teetotaler,  but  I  am 
a  temperance  man — was  never  drunk  in  m.y  life — but  you  sur- 
prise me  !  ' 

"  Dining  and  tea-room  of  Fellows.  Elaborate  carved  oak — 
no  sham.  In  all  respects  college  in  quadrangle  proposes  to  take 
care  of  its  students,  head  and  stomach,  soul,  intellect,  and  body, 
and  therefore  has  added  kitchen  to  library." 

"  London,  August  9. — Arrived  last  night.  Old  Bell.  Visited 
Trafalgar  Square  and  Westminster  Abbey,  Guildhall,  Bank  of 
England,  Tower,  Tunnel,  etc." 

In  London  something  of  the  old-time  sadness  came  over  him, 
with  the  old-time  sources  of  relief  : 

"  Now,  too,  I  am  apt,  if  I  do  not  fall  asleep  soon  enough — or 
more  frequently  when  I  awake,  hours  before  it  is  the  fashion  here 
to  get  up — to  lie  and  think  over  my  way  of  life  hitherto  ;  and 
my  life-work  seems  to  me  to  be  so  little,  and  so  poorly  done,  that 
I  feel  discouraged  at  the  thought  of  resuming  it  !  I  have  every- 
where in  my  travelling — at  the  shrine  of  the  martyrs  in  Oxford,  at 
the  graves  of  Bunyan  and  Wesley  in  London,  at  the  vault  in 
which  Raleigh  was  for  twelve  years  confined  in  the  Tower — asked 
myself  whether  I  could  have  done  and  endured  what  they  did, 
and  as  they  did  !  It  is  enough  to  make  one  tremble  for  himself 
to  have  such  a  heart-sounding  as  this  gives  him.     I  cast  the  lead 


346  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

for  the  depth  of  my  soul,  and  it  strikes  so  soon  that  I  have  little 
reason  for  pride. 

"  Had  it  not  been  for  paintings,  and  flowers,  and  trees,  and 
the  landscapes,  I  do  not  know  what  I  should  have  done  with  my- 
self. Often  when  extremely  distressed  I  have  gone  to  the  parks 
or  out  of  the  city  to  some  quiet  ground  where  I  could  find  a 
wooded  stream,  and  the  woods  filled  with  birds,  and  found, 
almost  in  a  moment,  a  new  spirit  coming  over  me.  I  was  rid  of 
men,  almost  of  myself.  I  seemed  to  find  a  sacred  sweetness  and 
calmness,  not  coming  over  me,  but  into  me.  I  seemed  nearer  to 
heaven.  I  felt  less  sadness  about  life,  for  God  would  take  care 
of  it ;  and  my  own  worthlessness,  too,  became  a  source  of  com- 
posure, for  on  that  very  account  it  made  little  difference  in  the 
world's  history  whether  I  lived  or  died.  God  worked,  it  seemed 
to  me,  upon  a  scale  so  vast  and  rich  in  details  that  anything  and 
anybody  could  be  spared  and  not  affect  the  results  of  life." 

He  crossed  over  to  Paris  in  August,  and  his  note-book  gives 
us  catch-words  and  sentences  evidently  intended  for  reminders 
of  sights,  incidents,  and  adventures  that  he  wished  to  remember. 
So  disconnected  are  they  that  they  are  of  little  worth  except  as 
showing  what  interested  him  in  this  great  city  on  this  his  first 
visit,  and  as  affording  the  raw  materials  out  of  which  grew  his 
letters  and  more  finished  descriptions. 

When  he  arrived,  by  what  route,  at  what  hotel  he  stopped,  he 
apparently  did  not  think  worth  noting  ;  but  what  he  saw  in  the 
life  of  the  people  he  wished  to  remember,  and  the  first  few  pages 
of  his  diary  are  filled  with  items  like  these  :  "  Three  mothers  with 
their  babies."  "  Boy  and  sister  frolicking,  six  or  seven  years 
old."  "Family  on  seat;  little  thing  talking,  about  three  years 
old."  "  Twelve  soldiers  going  to  relieve  sentinels."  "  Stand  for 
flowers,"  etc. 

Next  to  the  life  of  the  common  people  the  largest  space  in 
his  diary  is  given  to  the  art-galleries.  On  two  pages  he  jots 
down  "  Effect  of  Gallery  on  my  Mind  "  : 

"1st.  Astonishment,  at  number  and  exquisite  character,  be- 
yond what  had  expected — not  of  something  finer,  but  such  as  to 
make  me  feel  that  before  I  had  not  seen  anything. 

"  2d.  Then  sense  of  intense  pleasure,  from  what  do  not  stop 
to  inquire.  It  is  not  color,  form,  composition,  nor  mere  sym- 
pathy with  thing  expressed.     TV  is  the  whole.     The  walls  flame 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHBR.  347 

out  as  it"  the  hall  was  a  summer  and  all  shining  in  concentration 

upon  you.  1  sec  all  that  is  painted — and  more.  I  sec,  beyond, 
other  visions,  the  mute  figures  speak.  I  imagine  the  scene  be- 
fore the  time  chosen  and  afterwards. 

"3d.   Then   comes  sense  of  beauty,  complex,  of  rich   and   ex 
quisite  coloring  ;  also  the  beauty  of  the  scenes.     The  objects,  in 
other  words,  and  the  instrument  of  their  manifestation. 

u  4th.  Then  you  begin  to  select  and  to  hang  in  a  dreamy  re- 
view over  one  or  another.  Time  is  not  known  ;  you  wake  by 
some  footfall.  Whether  you  have  been  here  an  hour  or  four  you 
cannot  tell  ;  it  seems  by  the  populous  experience  a  long  time. 
Vou  do  not  weary,  but  you  exhale — i.e.,  the  senses  seem  to  flag, 
while  mind  is  keener  than  ever,  and  you  imagine  rather  than  see  ; 
as  one  who  is  exhilarated  by  wine  sees,  to  be  sure,  but  his  own 
mind  affords  the  color  and —  " 

In  his  letters  he  afterwards  enlarged  upon  this  topic  :  "  Ah  ! 
what  a  new  world  has  been  opened  to  me,  and  what  a  new  sense 
within  myself  !  I  knew  that  I  had  gradually  grown  fond  of  pic- 
tures from  my  boyhood.  I  had  felt  the  power  of  some  few.  But 
nothing  had  ever  come  up  to  a  certain  ideal  that  had  hovered  in 
my  mind,  and  I  supposed  I  was  not  fine  enough  to  appreciate  with 
discrimination  the  works  of  masters.  To  find  myself  absolutely 
intoxicated  ;  to  find  my  system  so  much  affected  that  I  could  not 
control  my  nerves  ;  to  find  myself  trembling,  and  laughing,  and 
weeping,  and  almost  hysterical,  and  that  in  spite  of  my  shame  and 
determination  to  behave  better — such  a  power  of  these  galleries 
over  me  I  had  not  expected.  I  have  lived  for  two  days  in  fairy- 
land, wakened  out  of  it  by  some  few  sights  which  I  have  mechani- 
cally visited,  more  for  the  sake  of  pleasing  friends  at  home,  when 
I  return,  than  for  a  present  pleasure  to  myself,  but  relapsing  again 
into  the  golden  vision.   .  .  . 

"  I  could  not  tell  whether  hours  or  minutes  were  passing. 
It  was  a  blessed  exhalation  of  soul,  in  which  I  seemed  freed  from 
matter,  and,  as  a  diffused  intelligence,  to  float  in  the  atmos- 
phere. I  could  not  believe  that  a  dull  body  was  the  centre  from 
which  thought  and  emotion  radiated.  I  had  a  sense  of  expan- 
sion, of  etherealization,  which  gave  me  some  faint  sense  of  a 
spiritual  state.  Nor  was  I  in  a  place  altogether  unfitted  for  such 
a  state.  The  subject  of  many  of  the  works — suffering,  heroic 
resistance,    angels,    Arcadian    scenes,    especially    the    scenes    of 


348  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Christ's  life  and  death — seemed  not  unfitting  accompaniment  to 
my  mind,  and  suggested  to  me,  in  a  glorious  vision,  the  drawing 
near  of  a  redeemed  soul  to  the  precincts  of  heaven  !  Oh  !  with 
what  an  outburst  of  soul  did  I  implore  Christ  to  wash  me,  and 
all  whom  I  loved,  in  His  precious  blood,  that  we  might  not  fail 
of  entering  the  glorious  city  whose  builder  and  maker  is  God  ! 
All  my  sins  seemed  not  only  sins  but  great  deformities.  They 
seemed  not  merely  affronts  against  God  but  insults  to  my  own 
nature  !  My  soul  snuffed  at  them  and  trod  them  down  as  the 
mire  in  the  street.  Then,  holy  and  loving  thoughts  toward  God 
or  toward  man  seemed  to  me  to  be  as  beautiful  as  those  fleecy 
islets  along  the  west  at  sunset,  crowned  with  glory ;  and  the 
gentler  aspirations  for  goodness  and  nobleness  and  knowledge 
seemed  to  me  like  silver  mists  through  which  the  morning  is 
striking,  wafting  them  gently  and  in  wrreaths  and  films  heaven- 
ward. Great  deeds,  heroism  for  worthy  objects,  for  God,  or  for 
one's  fellows,  or  for  one's  own  purity,  seemed  not  only  natural 
but  as  things  without  which  a  soul  could  not  live. 

"  But  at  length  I  perceived  myself  exhausted,  not  by  any 
sense  of  fatigue  (I  had  no  sense  or  body),  but  by  perceiving  that 
my  mind  would  not  fix  upon  material  objects,  but  strove  to  act 
by  itself.  Thus  a  new  picture  was  examined  only  for  an  instant, 
and  then  I  exhaled  into  all  kinds  of  golden  dreams  and  visions. 

"  I  left  the  gallery,  and  in  this  mood,  as  I  threaded  my  way- 
back,  howr  beautiful  did  everything  and  everybody  seem  !  The 
narrow  streets  were  beautiful  for  being  narrow,  and  the  broad 
ones  for  being  broad  ;  old  buildings  had  their  glory,  and  new 
structures  had  theirs  ;  children  were  all  glorified  children  ;  I 
loved  the  poor  workmen  that  I  saw  in  the  confined  and  narrow 
shops  ;  the  various  women,  young  and  old,  with  huge  buck-bas- 
kets, or  skipping  hither  and  thither  on  errands,  all  seemed  happy, 
and  my  soul  blessed  them  as  I  passed. 

"  My  own  joy  of  being  overflowed  upon  everything  which  I 
met.  Sometimes  singing  to  myself,  or  smiling  to  others  so  as  to 
make  men  think,  doubtless,  that  I  had  met  some  good  luck  or 
was  on  some  prosperous  errand  of  love,  I  walked  on  through 
street  after  street,  turning  whichever  corner,  to  the  right  or  left, 
happened  to  please  the  moment,  neither  knowing  or  caring  where 
I  went,  but  always  finding  something  to  see  and  enjoying  all 
things.      Nor    do   I   know  yet  by  what  instinct  I  rounded  up  my 


REV,  HENRY   WARD  BEECHER, 


349 


journeyingg  by  finding  my  proper  lodging.     That  night   I  slept, 

ts  to  my  body,  but  felt  little  difference  between  dreaming  asleep 
and  dreaming  awake." 

We  turn  from  his  note-book  and  letters  to  one  of  the  papers  of 
the  day,  and  read  :  "  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher,  our  esteemed  brother, 
has  returned  from  his  transatlantic  trip  with  -improved  health. 
He  reached  New  York  yesterday  (evening)  in  the  Asia,  Septem- 
ber 1 1." 

He  arrived  unexpectedly  and  found  his  family,  which  had 
been  spending  the  summer  at  Sutton,  Mass.,  with  the  grandmo- 
ther, awaiting  him.  His  trip  had  been  a  success  in  every  par- 
ticular. Not  only  was  his  health  restored,  but  his  field  of  obser- 
vation had  been  vastly  broadened  and  his  experiences  greatly 
deepened.  England,  the  home  of  his  race,  had  been  seen  and 
touched  ;  he  had  visited  her  castles,  colleges,  and  churches  ; 
walked  among  her  fields,  become  acquainted  with  her  people  ;  and 
henceforth  her  noble  history,  great  achievements,  and  mighty 
names  seemed  more  real  to  him,  and  she  was  more  admired  and 
beloved  than  ever. 

In  Paris  he  became  conscious  for  the  first  time  of  the  power 
of  true  art,  and  began  that  study  of  it  which  only  ended  with  his 
life. 

But,  whether  in  England  or  France,  so  well  read  was  he  in 
the  history  of  the  places  visited,  and  so  vivid  was  his  imagina- 
tion to  bring  back  the  scenes  and  men  that  made  these  places 
memorable,  that  his  journey  was  as  a  sojourn  with  the  wisest  and 
best  of  our  race,  and  he  returned  from  it  refreshed  and  enlarged 
for  the  work  that,  for  a  few  weeks,  had  been  laid  aside. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Church  and  Steamboat — Jenny  Lind — Hospitality — Colonel  Pertzel — The 
Family — Twins — Medicine — Giving  Counsel — For  the  Sailor — An  Ab- 
surd Story  Contradicted — Salisbuiy — Trouting — Death  of  Alfred  and 
Arthur — Letters  to  his  Daughter  at  School — Lenox — Equivocal  Honors 
Declined — The  Pulpit — "  Plymouth  Collection  " — "  Shining  Shore  " 
A  Church  Liturgy — Courting  with  his  Father's  old  Love-letters — 1857  a 
Year  of  Trial — Matteawan — Visit  to  Litchfield — 1858  a  Year  of  Harvest 
— Revival  Meetings — Hospitality  of  Plymouth  Church — Courtesy  to 
Errorists — New  Organ — Peekskill — Letters  to  his  Daughter  abroad — 
Marriage  of  his  Daughter — Lecturing — Title  of  D.D.  declined — Flowers 
in  Church — Christian  Liberty  in  the  Use  of  the  Beautiful — His  two 
Lines  of  Labor. 

NO  sooner  has  he  put  his  foot  on  shore  than  he  is  engaged  in 
battle.     This  time   it  is   against  religious  bigotry  and  in- 
tolerance upon  the  seas.     A  Star  article  from  his  pen   ap- 
peared  September    19    upon    "Church  and  Steamboat — Cunard 
Line  "  : 

No  religious  service  was  allowed  on  the  steamers  except 
that  which  was  appointed  for  the  crew,  at  which  the  passengers 
were  pen?iitted  to  be  present.  No  one  was  allowed  to  read  the 
service  there  except  the  captain,  who,  having  been  playing  cards 
late  Saturday  night,  and  being  addicted  to  the  sailor  habit  of  pro- 
fanity, was  not  considered  fit  for  the  office.  No  one  at  all  was 
permitted  to  preach,  or,  if  the  rule  were  ever  varied,  only  a  clergy- 
man of  Episcopal  ordination.  One  of  the  owners,  who  happened 
to  be  on  the  ship,  when  courteously  asked  to  allow  some  one  of 
the  nine  clergymen  on  board  to  preach,  and  to  give  the  use  of 
one  of  the  several  cabins  to  those  who  chose  to  have  service  of 
their  own,  lost  his   temper  and  said  that  if  Americans  did  not 

choose  to  go  on  his  line,  "  d 'em  !  they  may  go  to  h ." 

All  this  appeared  to  Mr.  Beecher  as  rank  injustice  and  an  inter- 
ference with  the  freedom  of  worship  of  multitudes  of  travellers. 
Humorously,  yet  with  good,  solid,  set  phrase,  he  denounces  this 
bigotry  in  the  article  above  mentioned.  Like  most  of  his  ar- 
ticles, it  was  strong  enough  to  draw  the  fire  of  the  enemy. 

350 


REV,  HENRY  U'.lR/>  BEECHER. 


35 


The  captain  and  the  son  of  this  owner  reply  in  letters  wln<  h 
partly  explain,  partly  deny,  but  wholly  charge  Mr.  Beecher  with 
falsehood.  This  brings  another  article  from  him  in  the  next 
issue,  September  26  : 

"  It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  gentlemen,  that  cither  of  yon  can 
sympathize  fully  with  me  in  an  inveterate  prejudice  which  1  have 
contracted  against  lying  in  all  its  moods  and  tenses.  But,  really, 
1  feel  hurt  that  you  have  so  low  an  opinion  of  my  ingenuity  as  to 
suppose  that,  if  I  set  out  to  tell  lies,  I  should  tell  such  poor  and 
graceless  ones. 

"  Allow  me  to  assure  you,  gentlemen,  that  while  my  principles 
forbid  me  to  employ  falsehood,  yet  should  I  attempt  it  I  should 
conscientiously  endeavor  to  lie  well." 

He  reiterates  his  charges,  adds  to  them  some  further  remarks 
upon  the  gambling  habits  of  the  captain,  which  unfit  him  to  act 
as  conductor  of  public  worship,  procures  affidavits  from  respon- 
sible parties  to  substantiate  his  charges,  and  refers  them  to  the 
courts  for  redress,  if  they  think  themselves  aggrieved. 

The  first  battle  upon  his  return  to  his  native  land  was  waged 
for  freedom  of  worship  upon  the  high  seas  ! 

In  this  same  month  of  September,  Jenny  Lind  came  to  this 
country  and  began  that  series  of  concerts  which  have  never 
been  surpassed.  Her  first  concert  in  Castle  Garden,  Septem- 
ber 11,  netted  $30,000.  Some  of  the  papers  having  criticised 
her  and  her  manager  for  the  high  price  of  tickets,  and  the  com- 
munity for  paying  it,  Mr.  Beecher  takes  up  the  cudgels  in  her 
behalf  : 

"  Jenny  Lind,  if  we  understand  her  desires  and  aims,  is  em- 
ploying a  resplendent  musical  genius  in  the  most  noble  accord- 
ance with  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel.  In  her  we  behold  a  spectacle 
of  eminent  genius  employing  its  magic  power  in  the  elevation  of 
the  human  race. 

u  If  men  would  spare  from  the  disgusting  weed  and  poisonous 
liquors  one-half  of  what  they  spend  every  month,  there  are  few 
so  poor  as  not  to  be  able  to  hear  Jenny  Lind.  *  " 

One  of  his  children  gives  this  incident  : 

"  In  those  early  days  father  always  had  a  flower-garden  in  the 
back-yard  of  our  city  homes.  I  remember  when  we  lived  in  the 
little,  brown  wooden  house  on  Columbia  Heights,  Jenny  Lind 
came  to  board  near   us  for  a  short  time.     All  the  neighboring 


352 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


children  used  to  gather  round  her  door  to  see  her  start  for  her 
drive ;   and  one  day  when  we  saw  the  carriage  in  front  of  her 

house,  I  ran  in  to  ask  father  if  H and  I  could  go  and  see  her 

come  out.  He  was  at  work  in  the  garden  among  his  flowers, 
and,  after  giving  his  consent,  called  me  back,  cut  a  handful  of 
roses,  and  told  me  I  could  take  those  and  give  them  to  her.      So 

off  H and  I  went,  but  I  believe,  after  all,  my  courage  failed, 

and  I  brought  them  home  again,  very  much  ashamed.  Father 
laughed,  but  comforted  me  by  saying  he'd  rather  I  would  be  too 
shy  than  too  bold." 

He  closes  this  eventful  year  (1850)  with  two  Star  articles — 
the  one  (December  12),  "  Remember  the  Poor":  "  Upon  the 
whole,  we  doubt  if  there  is  any  other  means  of  grace  so  profitable 
to  a  Christian  as  the  whole  duty  of  relieving  the  poor;  for  giving 
money  is  but  a  small  part,  and  often  the  least  effective  part,  of 
duty  to  them.  Every  man  ought  to  take  a  single  case  or  family, 
and  look  after  them  through  the  winter."  Another  (December 
19)  upon  "  Different  Ways  of  Giving":  "Now  and  then  you 
will  find  a  man  whose  face  is  March  but  whose  pocket  is  June. 
He  will  storm  and  scold  at  you,  but  send  you  away  with  ten 
times  as  much  as  you  asked." 

Mr.  Beecher  was  very  hospitable,  and  kept  open  house  for 
friends,  and  even  for  such  chance  acquaintance  as  came  to  be  as- 
sociated with  him.  "  When  Kossuth  was  in  this  country,  Colonel 
Pertzel,  his  chief  of  staff,  with  his  wife,  stopped  with  us  for 
several  weeks.  When  they  went  away  she  gave  me  her  bracelet 
of  national  coins,  which,  she  said,  was  prized  by  the  Hungarian 
women  in  their  exile  above  all  their  possessions. 

"  Our  own  family  circle  at  this  time  consisted  of  father,  mo- 
ther, and  three  children — two  boys  and  a  girl.  Besides  these 
Aunt  Esther  was  with  us,  whom  I  remember  as  little  and  round, 
straight  and  precise,  with  snapping  black  eyes,  looking  after  the 
second  generation  of  nephews  and  nieces,  and  telling  us  stories  ; 
and  also  Grandma  Bullard,  doing  the  mending  and  cosseting 
while  she  sang  ' Bounding  Billow'  and  'Like  the  Hart  and  the 
Roe.'     Dear,  ideal  old  grandmother  !  " 

December  20,  1852,  there  was  an  addition  to  this  circle.  "I 
can  remember  sitting  in  the  parlor  one  evening  with  Aunt  Esther, 
and  father's  coming  in,  going  up  to  her,  and  kissing  her  first  on 
one  cheek   and  then  on  the  other,  and  her  giving  a  little  jump, 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


35, 


saying,  '  Not  two,  Henry  ! '  and  his  answering,  '  Yes,  two.'     Then 
be  told  me  that  1  had  two  Little  new  brothers  up-stairs. 

"  Father  was  so  proud  of  these  twins  that  I  remember  on  New 
War's  day  lie  took  fifteen  or  twenty  of  the  Hungarians  who  were 
making  New  Year's  calls  up  into  mother's  room  to  see  them." 

At  the  Thanksgiving  service  of  this  year  Mr.  Beecher  had 
announced  that  an  effort  would  be  made  to  raise  by  subscription 
the  sum  of  $13,000  to  pay  off  the  floating  debt  of  the  church  be- 
fore January  1,  and  the  papers  of  a  later  date  contain  the  an- 
nouncement that  the  sum  was  promptly  subscribed,  "  and  Ply- 
mouth Church  may  now  be  considered  on  a  firm  foundation  in 
temporal  matters,  and  is  in  every  way  in  a  prosperous  condition." 

The  church  entered  the  new  year,  1852,  without  debt,  and 
more  than  ten  thousand  dollars  were  realized  from  the  rent  of 
the  pews. 

Evidently  he  begins  the  year  with  especial  effort  to  overcome 
spiritual  coldness  among  the  people,  and  bring  in  the  summer  of 
Christian  life  and  growth,  for  his  Star  Papers  are  upon  subjects 
like  these  :  "  Ice  in  the  Church,"  "  Various  Convictions  of  Sin," 
and  later  are  announcements  in  the  papers  of  morning  prayer- 
meetings  in  "  Plymouth  Church,"  "  Preaching  Every  Evening." 

In  due  time  the  announcement  is  made  that  "  sixty  persons 
were  last  Sabbath  morning  received  into  the  church,  fifty  upon 
profession  of  faith." 

He  is  experiencing  one  of  the  evils  to  which  religious  meet- 
ings are  prone,  and  concerning  it  he  sends  out  a  note  of  warn- 
ing, "One  Cause  of  Dull  Meetings": 

"We  hardly  know  of  a  more  unprofitable  exercise  for  social 
meetings  than  what  is  called  exhortation.  Men  impose  upon 
themselves  and  social  meetings  degenerate  into  absurd  formalities 
— a  pretence  of  caring  for  what  they  do  not  care  for,  of  renounc- 
ing what  all  the  wrorld  knows  they  do  not  renounce,  of  asking  for 
what  they  do  not  desire  and  desiring  what  they  dare  not  ask." 

Through  life  Mr.  Beecher  was  as  free  with  pathies  in  medi- 
cine as  of  isms  in  religion,  and  used  allopathy,  homoeopathy, 
hydropathy,  electricity,  or  hand-rubbing,  as  seemed  to  him  at  the 
time  most  likely  to  secure  the  coveted  result.  In  general  he 
trusted  more  to  the  man  than  to  the  system.  His  position  on 
this  matter,  which  he  held  substantially  for  years,  is  given  in  a 
review  of  a  medical  work  : 


354  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  In  good  earnest,  we  regard  medicine  with  Little  favor.  Our 
first  recipe  for  sickness  is,  not  to  get  sick.  Our  second  is  reli- 
ance upon  a  well-bred,  sensible  doctor.  We  select  the  doctor. 
It  is  his  business  to  select  the  medicine,  and  we  do  not  care  a 
pin  what  it  is.  To  all  who  ask  us,  therefore,  what  school  we  be- 
long to,  we  reply  :  'We  are  firmly  persuaded  of  Dr. .'     This 

is  the  sum  of  our  present  creed." 

His  interest  in  common  men  and  their  affairs  brought  many 
to  him  by  letter  or  in  personal  conversation  for  advice  in  their 
difficulties.  Probably  few  physicians  or  lawyers  in  good  practice 
were  consulted  by  more  people  than  came  daily  to  Mr.  Beecher. 
So  practical  were  his  principles  of  action,  so  great  his  sympathy 
with  men  in  trouble,  and  such  his  ability  to  see  through  the  diffi- 
culty, that  men  came  to  him  for  counsel  from  far  and  near. 

A  man  asks  him  as  to  his  duty  to  his  creditors  under  certain 
peculiar  circumstances  which  he  mentions.  Mr.  Beecher  goes 
over  the  matter  in  detail,  states  the  ground  of  difficulty  in  that 
and  all  similar  cases,  and  points  out  the  way  of  relief  in  this 
fruitful  sentence :  "  Selfishness  is  the  great  mischief-maker  in 
settlements.  Men  think  of  their  own  rights  first  and  their 
creditors'  afterwards.  Reverse  this.  Be  careful  first  that  no  man 
suffer  by  you." 

Again,  at  this  time  a  man  writes  asking  as  to  the  duty  of  a 
temperance  man  and  a  professor  of  religion  in  regard  to  selling 
liquor  as  an  agent. 

"...  He,  therefore,  who  loves  his  situation  or  his  pocket 
more  than  his  religion  can  expect  but  little  sympathy  from  ro- 
bust Christians,  and  little  favor  from  that  Christ  of  the  cross 
who  has  ordered  a  church  of  cross-bearing  disciples.  But  we 
will  turn  our  friend  in  such  a  dilemma  over  to  our  friend  Hall, 
a  drayman  in  New  York,  who  utterly  refuses  to  cart  liquor,  who 
will  not  unload  a  ship  if  in  so  doing  he  must  cart  brandy.  For 
he  says  he  will  not  disgrace  any  horse  that  he  owns  by  letting 
him  be  seen  with  a  load  of  liquor  behind  him." 

While  carrying  a  free  lance  ready  as  any  knight  of  old  to 
champion  every  cause  that  was  suffering  injustice,  we  want  to 
emphasize  the  fact  that  he  had  none  of  that  small,  truculent  spirit 
that  leads  to  personal  attacks.  He  was  very  lenient  to  individ- 
ual human  failures,  charitable  in  his  judgments,  and  would  rather 
attempt  to  save  by  hiding  than  to  punish  by  exposing  them.     In 


HENR  V  11  A  RD  BEEC  'HER. 


55 


answer  to  a  question  which  we  once  asked  <  on<  erning  a  man 

who,  to   our  mind,  had   greatly  transgressed    the    limits  of  public 
propriety,  if  not  of  morality,  "Why  don't  you  pitch  in  and  show 

up  this  matter?"  this  man  of  a  thousand  battles  said  quietly, 
with  just  a  shade  of  rebuke  for  the  spirit  we  had  shown  in  his 
:  "  I  don't  like  to  pitch  into  folks  as  much  as  some  do." 
But  when  wrong  or  injustice  had  wrought  itself  into  a  system, 
it  made  no  difference  to  him  how  high  in  position  they  were  who 
upheld  it,  or  how  low  in  the  scale  were  the  sufferers,  or  how  se- 
curely entrenched  was  the  wrong  ;  he  waited  for  no  invitation,  he 
asked  no  permission,  he  sought  for  no  support,  but  attacked  it  at 
once,  aiming  to  expose  and  remove  the  root  element  of  the  evil. 

An  illustration  of  this  characteristic  of  Mr.  Beecher  is  af- 
forded by  an  article  written  by  him  at  this  time  upon  "  Naval 
Discipline,"  in  which  he  brings  to  the  sailor  the  same  broad  sym- 
pathy, established  principles,  and  clear  reasoning  that  he  was  ac- 
customed to  employ  in  the  case  of  another  and  very  different 
class  : 

" .  .  .  It  is  of  little  use  to  cobble  a  system  whose  radical  idea 
is  wrong.  This  is  our  judgment  in  the  case  of  the  American 
navy.  The  republican  institutions  of  America,  slavery  always 
excepted,  contemplate  the  improvement  and  elevation  of  the 
masses.  Government  does  not  undertake  to  educate  the  citizen, 
but  it  contemplates,  it  is  obliged  from  its  origin  to  accommodate 
itself  to  the  radical  idea  of,  the  liberty  of  the  people  to  move 
among  themselves,  to  guide,  to  change,  to  advance  freely  in  any 
direction.  The  American  navy  is  a  monarchy.  Its  subjects  are 
regarded  in  but  one  light — they  are  to  be  under  service.  More  than 
this  nothing  is  thought  of.  Sailors  have  no  liberty.  There  is 
neither  provision  for,  nor  expectation  of,  improvement.  .  .  . 
There  must  be  an  entirely  new  spirit  infused  into  the  whole  sys- 
tem of  such  service. 

"...  In  short,  the  naval  system  must  address  the  social 
and  moral  need  of  the  sailor.  They  must  be  allowed  to  act 
under  all  those  high  motives  which  develop  men  on  shore." 

While  moved  by  these  world-wide  sympathies,  he  was  in  no 
mood  to  submit  with  patience  to  bigotry  nearer  home,  and  utters 
a  very  strong  protest  against  the  ostracizing  of  certain  Sabbath- 
schools  by  the  orthodox  schools  of  Brooklyn  in  their  yearly  pa- 
rade : 


356  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  We  ought  to  seize  such  an  occasion  to  promote  kindly  feel- 
ings and  cultivate  such  sympathy  as  differing  sects  might  lawfully 
have  in  common.  There  is  no  liberality  in  urging  this  matter  ; 
it  is  simply  common  sense  and  common  decency.  .  .  . 

"  Does  the (paper)  regard  it  as  dangerous  to  walk  the 

streets  with  a  Unitarian  ?  Is  heresy  like  smallpox,  so  contagious 
that  one  school  will  give  it  to  another  by  sitting  for  an  hour  in 
the  same  audience-room  with  it  ?  .  .  .  We  shall  pray  more  ear- 
nestly than  ever  for  the  advance  of  that  day  when  the  love  of  God 
shall  abound  in  the  hearts  of  men  and  inspire  men  to  love  each 
other." 

His  Star  Papers  of  1852  close  with  this,  wThich  will  at  once 
be  recognized  as  eminently  characteristic  : 

"  We  had  always  supposed  that  absurd  stories  grew  in  this  vi- 
cinity like  weeds  in  the  tropics  or  trees  planted  by  rivers.  For 
once,  however,  the  country  newspapers  have  got  ahead  of  our 
neighborhood. 

"  We  have  made  diligent  search,  taken  the  census,  examined 
every  cradle,  drawer,  closet,  crib,  nook,  and  corner,  and  are  pre- 
pared to  affirm  the  following  story,  which  was  born  in  the  Wind- 
ham County  Telegraph,  the  Norwich  Tribune,  Springfield  Re- 
publican, Boston  Chronicle,  and  other  papers,  to  be  exaggerated : 

"  '  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher's  lady  has  presented  him  with  five  little 
responsibilities  in  a  little  better  than  one  year  :  two  soon  after 
the  arrival  of  Kossuth  and  three  the  other  day.' 

"  Twins  there  were  a  year  ago  whose  blessed  faces  fill  the 
house  with  light,  but  the  three  above-mentioned  were  born  of  those 
maternal  editors  whose  brains  fulfil  the  prophet's  word,  '  Ye 
shall  consume  chaff ;   ye  shall  bring  forth  stubble.' 

"  We  turn  these  mousing,  mongering  editors  over  to  the 
next  woman's-rights  convention  ;  or,  if  they  are  not  fit  for  a  seat 
there,  they  may  amuse  the  children  with  nursery  tales  while 
the  mothers  are  at  discussion ;  or,  if  not  fit  for  that,  let  them 
in  mercy  be  bound  out  as  very  dry  nurses  at  some  foundling 
hospital." 

He  spends  the  summer  of  1853,  as  he  had  the  one  preceding,, 
at  Salisbury,  Connecticut. 

"  Once  more  we  find  ourselves  at  home  among  lucid  green 
trees,  among  hills  and  mountains,  with  lakes  and  brooks  on  every 
side,  and  country  roads  threading  their  way  in  curious  circuits 


REV.  HENRY  WARD   BE  EC  HER  357 

among  them.  All  day  long  we  have  moved  about  with  dreamy 
newness  of  Life.  Birds,  crickets,  and  grasshoppers  arc  the  only 
players  upon  instruments  that  molest  the  air.  Chanticleer  is  at 
this  instant  proclaiming  over  the  whole  valley  that  the  above  de- 
claration is  a  slander  on  his  musical  gifts.  Very  well  ;  add  chan- 
ticleer to  cricket,  grasshopper,  and  bird.  Add,  also,  a  cow,  for  I 
hear  her  distant  low  melodious  through  the  valley,  with  all  rough- 
ness strained  out  by  the  trees  through  which  it  comes  hitherward. 
0  this  silence  in  the  air,  this  silence  on  the  mountains,  this  silence 
on  the  lakes  !  " 

He  closes  a  long  letter  upon  trouting  in  this  fashion  : 

"  You  forget  your  errand.  You  select  a  dry,  tufty  knoll,  and, 
lying  down,  you  gaze  up  into  the  sky.  O  those  depths  !  Some- 
thing in  you  reaches  out  and  yearns.  You  have  a  vague  sense  of 
infinity,  of  vastness,  of  the  littleness  of  human  life,  and  the  sweet- 
ness and  grandeur  of  divine  life  and  of  eternity.  You  people 
that  vast  ether.  You  stretch  away  through  it  and  find  that  celes- 
tial city  beyond,  and  therein  dwell  oh!  how  many  that  are  yours  ! 
Tears  come  unbidden.  You  begin  to  long  for  release.  You 
pray-  Was  there  ever  a  better  closet  ?  Under  the  shadow  of  the 
mountain,  the  heavens  full  of  cloudy  cohorts,  like  armies  of 
horsemen  and  chariots,  your  soul  is  loosened  from  the  narrow 
judgments  of  human  life,  and  touched  with  a  full  sense  of  im- 
mortality and  the  liberty  of  a  spiritual  state.  An  hour  goes  past. 
How  full  has  it  been  of  feelings  struggling  to  be  thoughts,  and 
thoughts  deliquescing  into  feeling  !  Twilight  is  coming.  You 
have  miles  to  ride  home.  Not  a  trout  in  your  basket !  Never 
mind  ;  you  have  fished  in  the  heavens  and  taken  great  store  of 
prey.  Let  them  laugh  at  your  empty  basket.  Take  their  raillery 
good-naturedly  ;  you  have  certainly  had  good  luck." 

The  sadness  which  is  plainly  visible  in  the  passage  quoted  is 
an  old  acquaintance.  We  have  learned  to  expect  its  appearance 
somewhere  at  every  feast.  At  this  time  undoubtedly  it  comes 
the  oftener  because  of  the  sorrowful  experiences  of  the  early 
summer.  The  twins,  Alfred  and  Arthur,  "  whose  blessed  faces 
fill  the  house  with  light,"  had  both  died  on  the  fourth  of  July 
of  this  year,  and  been  buried  in  the  same  grave. 

It  was  one  of  the  deep  sorrows  of  his  life,  seldom  mentioned 
save  when  attempting  by  his  sympathy  to  comfort  others  in  like 
affliction  ;  it  became  a  fountain  of  deep  and  tender  feeling  for  all 


358  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

in  distress,  and  of  earnest  longings  for  the  rest  and  the  reunions 
of  heaven. 

The  going  away  of  his  daughter  to  boarding-school  during 
the  autumn  makes  another  break  in  the  family,  to  which  he  re- 
fers in  a  letter  in  November  : 

"...  This  is  the  first  departure  of  any  of  my  children  from 
home,  and  it  is  an  experience  which  testifies  to  my  affection  for 
you  and  my  solicitude;  yet  I  do  not  in  the  least  doubt  that  you 
will  do  well.  ... 

"  There    is  little   news  at  home.     Your  room  is  occupied  by 

E B ,  who  now  lives  with  us   and  takes  care  of  W . 

She  seems  a  very  good  girl,  and  W is  getting  very  fond  of 

her.  He  makes  no  resistance  to  her  dressing  him,  and  submits 
even  to  having  his  hair  curled  with  great  peace.  The  rogue  is  fat 
and  happy,  and  opens  his  big  eyes  with  a  half-tearful,  dreamy  look 
when  we  ask  him  :    Where  is  Sister  H ?  .  .  . 

"We   are  all  going  to  Aunty  H 's  to  dinner,  and   in  the 

evening  Mrs.  H and  family  will  come  round  there  too.     As 

for  me,  I  am  in  the  agony  of  writing  my  Thanksgiving  ser- 
mon. .   .   . 

"  There,    H ,    I  have  made    quite   an   effort,   for  me,   at 

letter-writing  and  news-telling.     Let  me  hear  from  you. 

"Your  loving  father, 

"H.  W.  B." 

In  a  letter  to  her  the  following  June  he  mentions  an  impor- 
tant domestic  event : 

"  Brooklyn,  June  24,  1854. 
"  My  dear  H : 

"  I  must  answer  your  last  letter  to  me  before  you  leave,  lest  I 
lose  my  repute  as  a  good  and  frequent  correspondent;  and  I  am 
the  more  willing  to  do  it  as  I  have  very  agreeable  tidings  to  com- 
municate to  you. 

"  You  will  receive  a  visit  from  W A ,  of  our  church, 

whom  I  presume  you  remember.  Well,  it  has  been  thought  best, 
after  consultation,    and    some    mysterious    correspondence    with 

your   Aunt  S which  you   may  have  noticed,  that  you  should 

meet  me  at  Cleveland  and  spend  the  next  Sabbath  there,  July  2  ; 
go  to  Painesville  and  spend  yuly  4  with  me  there  ;  and  then  come 


REV.  HENRY  WARD   BEECHER.  359 

hack  at  Oil!  leisure  to  sec  your  mother  and  a  new  little  brother 
who  was  safely  born  into  this  world  on  last  Thursday,  June  22, 
at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  weighing  ten  pounds,  and  filling 
all  people's  hearts  with  joy  at  his  health  and  general  peaceable 
qualities.      As  yet  we  have  fallen  upon  no  name.   .   .   . 

"...  Meanwhile  young  Master  Nameless  is  sleeping  off  all 
traces  of  remembrance  of  that  former  state  of  existence  from 
which  Edward  supposes  him  to  be  an  emigrant  to  this  world.  .  .  . 

"H.  W.  B." 

This  year  he  spent  the  summer  in  Lenox,  Berkshire  County, 
Massachusetts,  where  a  few  friends  have  aided  him  to  purchase 
a  farm,  "which  the  deeds,  with  great  definiteness,  say  contains 
ninety-six  acres,  more  or  less."  Annoyed  by  the  inquisitiveness 
of  certain  newspapers,  he  goes  on  to  say  : 

"  We  gave  for  farm  and  farm-buildings  $4,500  ;  for  the  crops, 
stock,  implements,  etc.,  $1,000  more  ;  total,  $5,500.  Any  person 
in  search  of  useful  information  can  have  further  particulars  as  to 
terms  of  payment  and  any  other  private  publicities  by  personal 
application  to  us." 

His  emotions  upon  taking  possession  are  described  in  a  letter 
of  that  date  : 

"  It  was  in  the  presence  of  this  pasture  elm,  which  we  name 
the  Queen,  that  we  first  felt  to  our  very  marrow  that  we  had  in- 
deed become  owners  of  the  soil  !  It  was  with  a  feeling  of  awe 
that  we  looked  up  into  its  face,  and  when  I  whispered  to  myself, 
1  This  is  mine,'  there  was  a  shrinking,  as  if  there  were  sacrilege 
in  the  very  thought  of  property  in  such  a  creature  of  God  as  this 
cathedral-topped  tree  !  Does  a  man  bare  his  head  in  some  old 
church  ?  So  did  I,  standing  in  the  shadow  of  this  regal  tree, 
and  looking  up  into  that  completed  glory  at  which  three  hun- 
dred years  have  been  at  work  with  noiseless  fingers  !  What  was 
I  in  its  presence  but  a  grasshopper  ?  My  heart  said,  '  I  may  not 
call  thee  property,  and  that  property  of  mine  !  Thou  belongest 
to  the  air.  Thou  art  the  child  of  summer.  Thou  art  the  mighty 
temple  where  birds  praise  God.  Thou  belongest  to  no  man's 
hand,  but  to  all  men's  eyes  that  do  love  beauty,  and  that  have 
learned  through  beauty  to  behold  God  !  Stand,  then,  in  thine 
own  beauty  and  grandeur  !  I  shall  be  a  lover  and  a  protector, 
to  keep  drought  from  thy  roots  and   the  axe  from  thy  trunk.'  " 


360  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Although  the  owner  of  the  farm,  we  are  not  to  suppose  that 
he  took  hold  of  work  as  the  neighboring  farmers  did.  We  fancy 
that  his  love  of  downright  hard  work  exhausted  itself  in  the 
West. 

"  The  chief  use  of  a  farm,  if  it  be  well  selected  and  of  a 
proper  soil,  is  to  lie  down  upon.  Mine  is  an  excellent  farm  for 
such  uses,  and  I  thus  cultivate  it  every  day.  Large  crops  are 
the  consequence,  of  great  delight  and  fancies  more  than  the 
brain  can  hold.  My  industry  is  exemplary.  Though  but  a  week 
here,  I  have  lain  down  more  hours  and  in  more  places  than  that 
hard-working  brother  of  mine  in  the  whole  year  that  he  has 
dwelt  here.  Strange  that  industrious  lying  down  should  come 
so  naturally  to  me,  and  standing  up  and  lazing  about  after  the 
plough  or  behind  the  scythe  so  naturally  to  him  !  " 

When  we  remember  how  many  ministers  who  take  an  interest 
in  public  affairs  find  themselves  elected  to  some  town  or  village 
office,  made  mayor  of  a  city,  sent  to  the  State  Legislature  or 
even  to  Congress,  we  are  surprised  that  Mr.  Beecher  was  never 
elected,  so  far  as  we  remember,  to  the  smallest  public  office. 
This  was  largely  owing  to  the  fact  that  he  looked  upon  the 
work  of  a  preacher,  to  inspire  men  to  right  conduct  in  public  af- 
fairs, as  more  important  than  filling  any  official  position,  however 
high. 

He  declares  this  opinion  facetiously,  but  none  the  less  as  a 
matter  of  deliberate  judgment,  in  a  letter  : 

EQUIVOCAL    HONORS    DECLINED. 

"  The  Tribune  last  Saturday,  in  reply  to  a  private  letter  asking 
its  advice  on  the  matter,  recommends  that  we  be  nominated  for 
Congress,  elected  and  sent,  and,  when  that  shall  be  done,  that 
we  go.  .  .  . 

"  Had  the  proposal  to  go  to  Congress  proceeded  from  the 
American  Board  of  Missions  there  would  have  been  grave  reasons 
for  considering  it.  We  doubt  whether  they  have  a  harder  field 
in  all  heathendom,  nor  yet  a  field  where  the  Gospel  is  more 
needed.  But,  for  mere  political  reasons,  to  backslide  from  the 
pulpit  into  Congress  is  a  little  too  long  a  slide  for  the  first  ven- 
ture.    We  beg  to  decline  in  advance." 

In  some  of  the  sharp  discussions  of  this  year,  1854,  the  minis- 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH  ER.  361 

try  have  been  bitterly  criticised  by  papers  who  opposed  politics 
in  public,  and  a  great  deal  of  advice  has  been  given  to  ministers 
concerning  preaching.  This  receives  his  attention  in  this  fash- 
ion : 

"  When  one  considers  the  amount  of  advice  given  to  min- 
ivers about  preaching,  it  is  surprising  that  there  should  ever  be 
again  a  dull  or  improper  sermon. 

"...  We  have  no  doubt  that  a  rigorous  landlord,  having 
sharked  it  all  the  week,  screwing  and  gripping  among  his  tenants, 
would  be  better  pleased  on  Sunday  to  doze  through  an  able 
Gospel  sermon  on  divine  mysteries  than  be  kept  awake  by  a 
practical  sermon  that,  among  other  things,  set  forth  the  duties  of 
a  Christian  landlord.  A  broker  who  has  gambled  on  a  magnifi- 
cent scale  all  the  week  does  not  go  to  church  to  have  his  prac- 
tical swindlings  analyzed  and  measured  by  the  '  New  Testament 
spirit.'  Catechism  is  what  he  wants;  doctrine  is  to  his  taste.  A 
merchant  whose  last  bale  of  smuggled  goods  was  safely  stored 
on  Saturday  night,  and  his  brother-merchant  who  on  the  same 
day  swore  a  false  invoice  through  the  custom-house — they  go 
to  church  to  hear  a  sermon  on  faith,  on  angels,  on  resurrection. 
As  they  have  nothing  invested  in  those  subjects,  they  expect  the 
minister  to  be  bold  and  orthodox.  But  if  he  wants  respectable 
merchants  to  pay  ample  pew-rents,  let  him  not  vulgarize  the  pul- 
pit by  introducing  commercial  questions.  A  rich  Christian 
brother  owns  largely  in  a  distillery,  and  is  clamorous  against 
letting  down  to  the  vulgarity  of  temperance  sermons.  Another 
man  buys  tax-titles  and  noses  around  all  the  week  to  see  who 
can  be  slipped  out  of  a  vacant  lot.  On  Sunday  he  naturally 
wants  us  to  preach  about  eternity,  or  moral  ability  and  inability. 
A  mechanic  that  plies  his  craft  with  the  unscrupulous  appliance 
of  every  means  that  will  win,  he,  too,  wants  "doctrine"  on  the 
Sabbath — not  these  secular  questions.  Men  wish  two  depart- 
ments in  life — the  secular  and  the  religious.  Between  them  a 
high  and  opaque  wall  is  to  be  built.  They  wish  to  do  just  what 
they  please  for  six  long  days.  Then,  stepping  the  other  side  of 
the  wall,  they  wish  the  minister  to  assuage  their  fears,  to  comfort 
their  conscience,  and  furnish  them  a  clear  ticket  and  insurance 
for  heaven.  By  such  a  shrewd  management  our  modern  finan- 
ciers are  determined  to  show  that  a  Christian  can  serve  two  mas- 
ters, both  God  and  Mammon,  at  the  same  time." 


362  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

While  fully  alive  to  all  the  advantages  of  natural  forces,  the 
Sabbath,  the  pulpit,  and  a  spiritual  church-membership  always 
held  the  highest  place  in  his  regard. 

"  It  is  no  small  thing,  as  it  regards  the  education  of  the  com- 
munity, that  from  their  youth  up  they  have  been  taught  to  dis- 
cuss all  questions  from  ascertained  and  authoritative  moral 
grounds.   .   .  . 

"  The  pulpit  is  the  popular  religious  educator.  Its  object  is 
to  stimulate  and  develop  the  religious  feelings.  .  .  . 

"  When  a  whole  community  are  wont  to  have  their  social  life, 
their  secular  business,  their  public  duties  taken  out  of  their  low 
and  selfish  attitudes,  and  lifted  up  into  the  light  of  God's  coun- 
tenance, and  there  measured,  judged,  repressed,  or  developed,  and 
wholly  bathed  or  inspired  by  the  spirit  of  conscience  and  of 
love,  then  they  are  receiving  a  moral  education  for  which  there 
is  no  other  provision  except  the  Sabbath  and  the  pulpit. 

"  Such  are  the  members  that  make  a  church  rich — poor  in 
this  world's  goods,  but  rich  toward  God — rich  in  faith,  in  hope, 
in  meekness,  in  patience,  in  prayer,  and,  according  to  the  feeble 
measure  of  their  ability,  in  good  works.  Many  a  church  is  de- 
stroyed through  an  ambition  of  having  strong  and  wealthy  men, 
only  rich,  not  holy.   .  .   . 

"  It  may  be  very  easy  to  sustain  a  church  that  has  great  wealth 
and  little  piety,  but  it  is  not  worth  sustaining.  It  is  not  a  moral 
power." 

He  had  no  confidence  in  secret  political  organizations.  "  One 
might  as  well  study  optics  in  the  pyramids  of  Egypt  or  the  sub- 
terranean tombs  of  Rome,  as  liberty  in  secret  conclaves  con- 
trolled by  hoary  knaves  versed  in  political  intrigue,  who  can 
hardly  enough  express  their  surprise  and  delight  to  find  honest 
men  going  into  a  wide-spread  system  of  secret  caucuses.  Honest 
men  in  such  places  have  the  peculiar  advantage  that  flies  have  in 
a  spider's  web — the  privilege  of  losing  their  legs,  of  buzzing 
without  flying,  and  of  being  eaten  up  at  leisure  by  big-bellied 
spiders !  .  .  . 

"  When  will  men  understand  that  simple,  open  integrity,  an 
unflinching  adhesion  to  principle,  is  the  peculiar  advantage  of 
truth  and  liberty  ?  All  that  the  Right  asks  is  air,  light,  an  open 
enemy,  and  room  to  strike.  It  is  Wrong  that  sneaks  in  the  dark 
and  gains  by  the  stiletto.  *  " 


REV.  HENRY    WARD   H  EEC  HER.  363 

From  time  to  time  he  gave  examination  to  modem  spiritual- 
ism, W  ith  this  result  : 

"  1  am  a  stout  unbeliever  in  the  spiritual  origin  of  this  pheno- 
menon, either  by  good  spirits,  bad  spirits,  or  any  spirits  whatever. 

u  A  belief  in  modern  spiritualism  seems  to  weaken  the  hold 
(A  the  Bible  upon  conscience,  the  affections,  and  to  substitute 
diluted  sentimentalism  and  tedious  platitudes  instead  of  inspired 
truth." 

In  1855  Mr.  Beecher  published  the  "Plymouth  Collection." 
Of  its  history  he  has  spoken  somewhat  at  length  : 

"  Soon  after  I  came  to  Brooklyn  from  the  West  the  conduc- 
tor of  music  in  this  church  was  a  Mr.  Jones.  He  was  intimately 
associated  with  the  house  of  Mason  Bros.,  publishers  of  music  in 
New  York,  and  sons  of  Lowell  Mason,  of  honored  and  revered 
memory.  I  desired  very  much  to  inaugurate  a  new  day  in  music 
— that  is  to  say,  to  transfer  to  the  great  congregation  on  Sunday 
the  same  methods,  so  far  as  singing  was  concerned,  that  we  had 
already  instituted  in  our  evening  meetings,  our  conference  meet- 
ings, and  our  revival  meetings — namely,  that  of  having  both 
the  hymns  and  the  music  before  them  at  the  same  time. 

"  I  can  go  back  in  my  memory,  easily,  to  the  time  when  there 
was  no  hymn-book  with  notes  for  church  use.  The  '  Christian 
Lyre,'  edited  by  Joshua  Leavitt,  was  largely  used  in  the  revivals 
under  Dr.  Finney,  and  'Christian  Songs,'  by  Mr.  Hastings  (the 
sweet  singer  of  Israel,  whose  service  to  the  church  was  never 
adequately  recognized),  were  also  used  in  revivals.  When  these 
books  came  they  brought  a  progeny  with  them ;  but  still  there 
was  nothing  of  the  kind  for  the  great  congregation.  The  music- 
books  for  choirs  were  those  long,  narrow,  inconvenient  ones 
which  could  not  well  be  held  in  the  hand,  but  must  always  needs 
be  laid  upon  a  shelf.  These  were  granted  to  the  choir  only, 
and  the  congregation  had  to  sing  from  memory  or  not  at  all.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  it  would  be  a  step  in  the  right  direction  to  put 
the  tunes  and  hymns  together,  so  that  everybody  who  had  the 
one  should  also  have  the  other. 

"  With  this  end  in  view  I  asked  the  trustees  of  this  church 
to  agree  to  purchase  a  few  copies  of  the  '  Temple  Melodies,'  a 
small  book  of  hymns,  the  music  for  which  was  to  be  selected  by 
Mr.  Jones  and  myself,  and  in  which  I  interested  the  publishing 
house  of  Mason  Bros. 


364  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  Connected  with  this  was  a  curious  incident.  Mason  Bros, 
would  not  publish  the  book  unless  we  would  pay  for  the  stereo- 
type plates  ;  and  the  trustees  agreed  to  take  a  certain  number  of 
copies  of  the  book — enough  to  cover  the  cost  of  the  plates — so 
that  the  publishers  should  suffer  no  loss.  When  the  book  came 
to  be  published  there  was  an  acknowledgment  of  the  services 
of  Mr.  Jones,  but  my  name  was  not  mentioned.  Although  I  did 
not  care  particularly  about  that,  I  was  curious  to  know  how  it 
should  happen  that  Mr.  Jones,  conductor  of  music  in  my 
church,  was  personally  mentioned,  and  I,  who  had  given  to  the 
work  time  and  influence,  and  who  had  obtained  means  with 
which  to  pay  for  the  plates,  was  not  mentioned  at  all.  Though 
I  was  the  father  of  the  book,  everybody  else  got  a  slice  of  the 
credit,  and  I  was  left  without  a  crumb.  I  asked  Jones  how  it 
was,  and,  blushing  up  to  his  ears,  he  said  (if  you  will  pardon  the 
adjective)  that  the  publishers  said  that  they  would  not  have  the 
name  of  a  d — d  abolitionist  in  their  book. 

"  This  was  the  first  step  in  that  direction.  The  success  of  the 
undertaking  was  such  as  to  satisfy  me  that  a  larger  endeavor  of  the 
same  sort  would  be  successful  also  ;  and  I  went  to  work  and  laid 
the  foundation  for  the  '  Plymouth  Collection.'  It  was  to  be  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  A.  S.  Barnes,  but  it  was  necessary  that  there  should 
be  a  guarantee  in  the  form  of  an  advance  sufficiently  large  to  pay 
for  the  plates,  that  the  publishers  might  run  no  risk  in  issuing  the 
book.  Mr.  Henry  C.  Bowen  and  Mr.  James  Freeland  agreed  to 
furnish  the  money,  with  the  understanding  that  when  the  income, 
if  there  was  one,  from  our  copyright  should  equal  the  amount  they 
had  advanced,  with  interest,  all  further  profits  from  the  copyright 
should  inure  to  the  benefit  of  the  choir  of  this  church. 

"  The  book  has  been  a  profitable  one  on  the  whole  ;  but  I 
know  not  how  much  the  choir  has  ever  received  from  it.  There 
was  no  written  agreement,  and  the  memorandum  lapsed.  I  for- 
got to  make  any  arrangement  for  myself.  The  consequence  was 
that  I  was  left  out  in  the  cold,  and  never  got  a  penny  for  my  ser- 
vices in  the  matter.  I  do  not  care  for  that.  The  object  for 
which  I  was  eager  and  earnest  was  to  procure  for  the  churches  a 
book  of  hymns  and  tunes,  so  that  they  should  have  both  before 
them  at  the  same  time. 

"  The  book  was  assailed,  but  was  defended,  and  it  made  its 
way. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  365 

"Since  that  time  there  have  been  eight  or  ten  hooks  of  the 
same  general  chanu  ter  adopted,  and  they  have  so  exactly  copied 
the  '  Plymouth  Collection'  as  to  size,  type,  and  form  that  yon 
may  take  the  eight  or  ten  volumes  and  set  them  on  a  shelf,  and 
unless  a  man  stood  close  to  them  he  could  not  tell  one  from  the 
other.  So  that  the  '  Plymouth  Collection  '  not  only  has  been  a 
good  book  for  this  church,  but  has  been  a  good  pattern  for  other 
churches  to  follow.  Although  it  was  the  first  one  of  its  kind,  it 
was  so  well  adapted  to  the  want  of  the  community  that  it  has  not 
been  deemed  expedient  to  change  in  the  least  degree  its  form, 
nor  to  change,  except  to  a  very  small  extent,  its  method.  It  has 
invariably  proved  to  be  a  book  acceptable  and  well  suited  to  the 
purpose  for  which  it  was  designed.  It  was  made  on  a  theory  of 
my  own,  or  rather  it  was  the  result  of  my  observation  and  expe- 
rience. I  had  observed  what  hymns  appealed  to  the  imagination 
and  the  affections  of  the  people  ;  and  I  did  not  Delieve  that  any 
hymn-book  would  ever  be  popular  which  had  not  in  it  hymns 
the  elements  of  which  appealed  to  these  faculties.  I  had  ob- 
served, also,  what  tunes  the  people  loved.  I  had  observed  that 
any  music,  however  irregular  or  grotesque,  that  appealed  to  their 
imagination  and  affection,  they  would  adopt  and  make  their 
own.  Guided  by  that  observation,  I  introduced  into  the  book  a 
great  many  melodies  of  a  kind  that  were  unknown  in  the  sobriety 
of  the  old-fashioned  psalmody,  but  that  have  been  developed 
more  fully  and  skilfully  in   subsequent  books. 

"With  that  conception  of  what  a  hymn-book  should  be,  I  was 
very  much  shocked  in  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Lowell  Mason, 
whose  services  to  American  music  cannot  be  over-estimated,  and 
who  has  gone  to  a  higher  choir,  but  who  in  his  old  age  fell  upon 
a  theory  that  I  thought  to  be  as  vicious  as  it  could  possibly  be — 
the  theory,  namely,  that  all  music  should  be  of  one  character, 
and  that  the  tune  should  be  the  main  thing.  He  said  to  me  one 
day  :  'I  think  a  perfect  hymn-tune  is  one  to  which  you  ought  to 
be  able  to  sing  every  psalm  in  the  whole  collection.'  I  consid- 
ered that  simply  monstrous,  literalizing  and  Platonizing  every- 
thing. His  late  books  lost  ground  a  great  deal  because  they  were 
so  insuperably  flat.  A  man  might  sing  them  to  all  eternity  and 
not  find  in  them  anything  which  hooked  on  to  his  memory  or 
affections,  or  anything  that  had  a  tendency  to  develop  his  higher 
nature. 


366  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER. 

"  About  twenty  years  ago  Mr.  Love,  of  Chicago — who  has 
conferred  great  benefit  upon  churches  and  schools  by  his  compo- 
sitions— and  I  were  riding  together  from  Brooklyn  to  Boston,  and 
we  discussed  this  question  of  music.  He  was  under  the  influ- 
ence of  Mr.  Mason,  and  partook  of  his  views  on  the  subject,  and 
I  blew  him  up  soundly  and  told  him  how  preposterous  I  thought 
they  were.  He  went  home  pondering  what  I  said,  and  subse- 
quently, as  I  afterward  heard,  cut  out  from  a  newspaper  the 
verses  beginning  '  My  days  are  gliding  swiftly  by,'  and  with  that 
conversation  in  his  mind  he  sat  down  and  wrote  the  '  Shining 
Shore  '  to  go  with  them.  Whether  this  tune  has  justified  my 
idea  or  not,  it  has  been  employed  in  this  congregation  for  many 
years.  Moreover,  it  was  taken  by  the  Brooklyn  Fourteenth  Regi- 
ment to  the  war,  it  was  performed  by  their  band,  and  whenever 
they  gave  anything  like  a  serenade  in  the  army  the  '  Shining 
Shore  '  was  called  for.  Since  that  time  this  tune  has  been  played 
and  sung  all  over  the  continent.  How  great  a  favorite  it  has 
been  here  you  know." 

This  collection  was  vehemently  attacked  by  one  of  the  reli- 
gious papers  of  the  day  in  the  lead,  several  others  following,  and 
was  vigorously  defended  by  Mr.  Beecher  in  a  series  of  articles 
in  the  Independent  over  his  well-known  signature,  the  *.  So  sim- 
ple a  matter  as  bringing  out  a  hymn-book  for  the  use  of  his  own 
church,  and  only  for  others  so  far  as  they  chose,  would  hardly 
seem  likely  to  call  out  so  strong  a  protest,  but  it  shows  the  posi- 
tion that  he  had  already  come  to  occupy  in  the  public  mind. 
With  his  advanced  views  and  strong  following,  everything  that 
he  did  demanded  examination,  must  be  sifted  and  probably 
marked  dangerous.  In  the  vigorous  defence  of  this  child  of  his 
heart  he  discourses  at  length  upon  hymns.  We  have  room  for 
only  two  or  three  extracts  : 

"  Hymns  are  the  exponents  of  the  inmost  piety  of  the 
Church.  They  are  crystalline  tears,  or  blossoms  of  joy,  or  holy 
prayers,  or  incarnated  raptures.  They  are  the  jewels  which  the 
Church  has  worn  ;  the  pearls,  the  diamonds,  and  precious  stones 
formed  into  amulets  more  potent  against  sorrow  and  sadness  than 
the  most  famous  charms  of  wizard  or  magician.  And  he  who 
knows  the  way  that  hymns  flowed  knows  where  the  blood  of 
piety  ran,  and  can  trace  its  veins  and  arteries  to  the  very  heart. 

"  Oftentimes  when,  in   the   mountain  country,  far  from  noise 


Henry  Ward   Beecher  in    1850. 


367 


368  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

and  interruption,  we  wrought  upon  these  hymns  for  our  vacation 
tasks,  we  almost  forgot  the  living  world,  and  were  lifted  up  by 
noble  lyrics  as  upon  mighty  wings,  and  went  back  to  the  days 
when  Christ  sang  with  His  disciples,  when  the  disciples  sang  too, 
as  in  our  churches  they  have  almost  ceased  to  do.  Oh  !  but  for 
one  moment,  even,  to  have  sat  transfixed  and  to  have  listened  to 
the  hymn  that  Christ  sang  and  to  the  singing  !  But  the  olive- 
trees  did  not  hear  His  murmured  notes  more  clearly  than,  rapt  in 
imagination,  we  have  heard  them  ! 

"  There,  too,  are  the  hymns  of  St.  Ambrose  and  many  others, 
that  rose  up  like  birds  in  the  early  centuries,  and  have  come  fly- 
ing and  singing  all  the  way  down  to  us.  Their  wing  is  untired 
yet,  nor  is  the  voice  less  sweet  now  than  it  was  a  thousand  years 
ago. 

11  There  are  Crusaders'  hymns,  that  rolled  forth  their  truths 
upon  the  Oriental  air,  while  a  thousand  horses'  hoofs  kept  time 
below  and  ten  thousand  palm-leaves  whispered  and  kept  time 
above  !  Other  hymns,  fulfilling  the  promise  of  God  that  His  saints 
should  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles,  have  borne  up  the  sorrows, 
the  desires,  and  the  aspirations  of  the  poor,  the  oppressed,  and 
the  persecuted,  of  Huguenots,  of  Covenanters,  and  of  Puritans, 
and  winged  them  to  the  bosom  of  God. 

"  In  our  own  time,  and  in  the  familiar  experiences  of  daily  life 
how  are  hymns  mossed  over  and  vine-clad  with  domestic  associa- 
tions ! 

"  One  hymn  hath  opened  the  morning  in  ten  thousand  fami- 
lies, and  dear  children  with  sweet  voices  have  charmed  the  eve- 
ning in  a  thousand  places  with  the  utterance  of  another.  Nor  do 
I  know  of  any  steps  now  left  on  earth  by  which  one  may  so  soon 
rise  above  trouble  or  weariness  as  the  verses  of  a  hymn  and  the 
notes  of  a  tune.  And  if  the  angels  that  Jacob  saw  sang  when 
they  appeared,  then  I  know  that  the  ladder  which  he  beheld  was 
but  the  scale  of  divine  music  let  down  from  heaven  to  earth." 

We  must  find  room  for  his  answer  to  the  charge  of  having 
left  out  from  Watts  "  fifteen  splendid  hymns,"  whose  first  lines 
are  mentioned.  After  accounting  for  five  of  them  by  showing 
that  they  were  left  out  because  others  of  Watts's  versions  of  the 
same  Psalms,  and  better  ones,  have  been  selected,  he  goes  on  to 

say  :   "  Next   in  the  list  the charges  that  we  have   omitted 

Watts's  hymn,  '  Glory  to  Thee,  my  God,  this  night.'    This  evening 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  369 

hymn,  dear  to  thousands  of  hearts,  was  probably  written  before 

Watts  was  born,  certainly  before  he  had  written  his  psalms  and 
hymns,  by  Bishop  Ken,  who  was  thirty-seven  years  old  when 
Watts  was  born,  and  who  died  when  Watts  was  but  thirty-six 
years  old.  There  is  not,  perhaps,  another  hymn  in  the  language 
which  it  would  require  such  ignorance  to  ascribe  to  Dr.  Watts. 
To  make  the  blunder  full-orbed,  it  turns  out  that  the  hymn  is  not 
omitted,  after  all,  from  'Plymouth  Collection,'  but  may  be  found 
at  page  416,  hymn  1287. 

"  The  next  omission  from  Watts  charged  by  the is  the 

hymn  '  While  my  Redeemer's  near.'  We  left  that  hymn  out 
from  Watts  because  Dr.  Watts  left  it  out  himself,  not  thinking  it 
honest,  we  suppose,  to  insert  a  hymn  before  it  wras  written,  or  to 
appropriate  another  author's  labors  as  his  own.  For  this  hymn 
was  written  by  Mrs.  Steele,  I  know  not  how  many  years  after 
Watts's  death.     How  dearly  this  critic  must  have  loved  Watts  ! 

"  We  are  next  charged  with  excluding  from  '  Plymouth  Col- 
lection '  the  hymn  of  Watts,  '  God  is  our  Refuge  and  Defence.' 
Alas  !  this  hymn  is  by  Montgomery,  and  not  by  Watts  at  all. 

"  How  precious  Watts's  hymns  must  be  to  a  man  who  cannot 
tell  a  Steele  or  a  Montgomery  from  a  Watts !  With  what  grief 
must  one  be  afflicted  at  the  injury  done  to  Watts  by  not  ascrib- 
ing to  him  Bishop   Ken's  hymns  ?     Why  did  not  the go  on 

and  mention  the  even  more  glaring  omissions  from  Watts  in  the 
1  Plymouth  Collection,'  such  as  '  Ye  Mariners  of  England,'  '  Drink 
to  me  only  with  thine  eyes,'  '  To  be  or  not  to  be  '—all  of  which 
are  left  out  of  Watts  and  the  '  Plymouth  Collection,'  and  which 
should  have  attracted  the  learned  attention  of  the  critic  of  the 


"  It  is  rumored  that  the  Psalm-Book  of  the  New  School  As- 
sembly is  to  be  revised.  If  so,  the  interests  of  the  Church  re- 
quire that  the  editor  of  the should  be  put  on  the  committee. 

His  accuracy,  his  carefulness,  his  profound  knowledge  of  hymns, 
and  especially  his  intelligent  admiration  of  Dr.  Watts,  cannot  be 
spared  in  such  a  labor." 

In  this  discussion  his  adversaries  found  out,  what  to  this  day, 
we  think,  is  not  well  understood,  that  his  action,  however  im- 
pulsive it  might  appear,  really  sprang  from  very  clearly  defined 
principles,  which  could  be  justified  whenever,  wherever,  and  by 
whom  attacked,  and  that,  however  careless  he  seemed,  he  had  a 


3  JO  BIOGRA PH Y  OF 

habit  of  making  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  mat- 
ter in  hand,  and  was  prepared  to  meet  any  antagonist.  Mr. 
Beecher  had  great  boldness  and  perfect  confidence  in  his  con- 
clusions, and  was  willing  to  stand  alone  upon  them,  because  he 
had  thought  them  out  and  settled  the  matter  once  for  all. 

From  the  kindly  manner  in  which  he  had  often  spoken  of  the 
Episcopal  Church,  his  mother's  communion,  and  in  his  account 
of  the  effect  which  the  service  had  upon  him  at  Stratford-on- 
Avon,  it  might  seem  that  he  would  attempt  to  bring  some  form 
of  it  into  use  in  Plymouth  Church;  but  no  movement  in  that 
direction  was  ever  made,  and  he  appears  to  have  been  well  satis- 
fied with  the  possibilities  that  lay  in  the  simple  forms  of  his  own 
order.  He  has  several  articles  at  different  times  upon  a  proposed 
"Congregational  Liturgy,"  but  advocates  no  change  of  method, 
only  an  improvement  of  spirit.  "Our  services  are  barren,  not 
from  any  want  of  common  forms  of  devotion,  but  from  the  want 
pf  common  sympathy.  A  church  has  a  right  to  the  gifts  of  every 
one  of  its  members,  and  the  minister  is  set  to  disclose  and  develop 
them.  He  is  not  to  lean  upon  the  strong,  or  avail  himself  alone 
of  the  services  of  those  already  developed.  It  is  his  office  to  take 
hold  of  every  individual  man,  and  to  educate  him,  so  that  he  may 
bring  forth  the  one,  or  five,  or  ten  talents  which  are  committed  to 
him  for  the  use  and  profit  of  all  his  brothers.  A  man  of  books,  a 
man  of  ideas,  a  man  of  sermons,  is  not  Christ's  idea  of  a  minister. 
'  Follow  me  and  I  will  make  you  fishers  of  men'  A  minister  is  a 
man  of  men.  He  is  an  inspirer  and  driller  of  men.  .  .  .  But  a 
dead  church  with  a  liturgy  on  top  is  like  a  sand  desert  covered 
with  artificial  bouquets.  It  is  bright  for  the  moment.  But  it 
is  fictitious  and  fruitless.  There  are  no  roots  to  the  flowers. 
There  is  no  soil  for  the  roots.  The  utmost  that  a  liturgy  can  do 
upon  the  chilly  bosom  of  an  undeveloped,  untrained  church  is  to 
cover  its  nakedness  with  a  faint  shadow  of  what  they  fain  would 
have  but  cannot  get.  .  .  . 

"As  to  'surpliced  boys,'  we  have  them  already.  The  whole 
congregation  is  a  choir,  and  our  boys,  bright  and  happy,  unite  and 
respond  with  the  elders  ;  so  the  surplice  which  they  wear  is  just  that 
thing  which  the  dear  mother  threw  over  them  when  they  left  her. 

"  If  we  were  disposed  to  use  any  liturgy,  we  know  of  no  one 
which  we  should  sooner  employ  than  that  which  expressed  the 
earliest  religious  feelings  of  our  own  mother,    now  in  heaven. 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER. 


37' 


The  mere  fact  that  she  had  used  and  loved  it  would  for  evei 

make  it  sarrcd  to  us.  W'c  never  hear  it  pronounced  by  a  sin<  ere 
and  earnest  man  without  deriving  profit  from  it  ourselves  ;  and 
we  have  no   doubt  that   others   are   benefited    by  its   use.      We   do 

not,  however,  believe  that  its  continual  use  as  the  only  vehicle 

of  expression  of  the  religious  feeling  of  the  congregation  would 
be  as  profitable,  on  the  whole,  as  an  extemporaneous  worship.  If 
we  did  we  should  use  a  liturgy.  While,  then,  we  decline  to  use  it 
in  public,  because  we  think  it,  on  the  whole,  less  edifying  than 
the  usage  of  Congregational  churches,  we  do  it  without  wishing 
to  detract  from  its  intrinsic  excellence,  and  without  wounding 
the  feelings  of  those  who  delight  to  use  it." 

At  this  time  he  takes  pains  to  contradict  the  report  that  he  had 
spoken  slightingly  of  the  Episcopalian  forms  in  saying  that  "  he 
would  as  soon  go  a-courting  with  his  father's  old  love-letters  as 
to  go  to  church  and  carry  a  book  to  pray  out  of  ": 

"  So  far  from  its  being  true  that  the  remark  in  this  story  was 
applied  to  the  Episcopal  or  any  other  liturgy,  it  was  applied  to 
what  are  called  extemporaneous  prayers  in  Congregational  and 
Presbyterian  prayer-meetings.  We  were  reprehending  the  prac- 
tice of  praying  without  sincerity  or  real  religious  feeling.  We 
said  that  when  men  began  to  lead  in  public  prayer  they  should 
be  simple,  truthful,  and  strictly  individual,  expressing  their  own 
wants  or  feelings  with  child-like  truthfulness.  We  commented 
upon  the  undeniable  fact  that  men  too  often  borrowed  their 
prayers,  copying  the  elder  or  deacon  or  minister,  not  to  express 
real  feelings,  but  as  forms.  Thus  extemporaneous  prayers  became 
hereditary.  And  it  was  in  reference  to  these  unwritten  forms  of 
prayer,  in  our  own  Congregational  churches,  that  the  remark  im- 
puted to  us  was  made.  It  was  not  a  fling  at  the  Episcopal 
service.  We  never  indulge  in  such  remarks  at  the  expense  of 
other  denominations,  and  never  intend  to  do  it.  We  regard  the 
whole  practice  of  railing  at  other  sects  or  their  religious  usages, 
from  the  pulpit,  as  not  only  unchristian  but  discourteous  and 
ungentlemanly." 

The  year  1857  was  one  of  great  commercial  trouble  through 
the  country.  Many  of  his  people  were  involved  and  became 
bankrupt.  This  gave  him  much  uneasiness  from  his  sympathy 
with  them,  and  to  some  extent  affected  his  health,  which  he  al- 
ludes to  in  a  letter  to  his  brother  later  in  the  year  : 


372  BIO  GRA  PH  Y  OF 

"I  do  not  think  it  safe  for  me  to  undertake  so  much  work 
this  winter.  My  head  is  already  suffering  from  overwork  and 
anxiety  induced  by  commercial  troubles  among  my  people. 
God  will  in  the  end  make  it  a  greater  blessing  than  their  pros- 
perity." 

A  family  affliction  which  he  felt  very  keenly,  both  in  his  per- 
sonal affection  and  in  sympathy  with  those  who  were  bereaved, 
added  to  his  burden.  In  a  letter  to  the  I?idepe?identy  July  16, 
1857,  he  says  : 

"  The  writer  has  been  called  by  the  stroke  of  violence  to  part 
with  three  nephews  within  two  weeks — two  of  them  of  one  age — 
dying,  one  in  New  Hampshire,  and  the  others  in  Ohio. 

"  Two  sons  of  Dr.  Talbot  Bullard,  of  Indianapolis,  Ind. — 
Henry,  aged  thirteen,  and  Frank,  aged  eighteen — were  thrown 
with  the  cars  over  an  embankment,  and  died  the  same  day. 

"  Nobler,  truer,  more  gentle,  and  more  amiable  natures  never 
were.  Just  a  moment  before  the  accident  one  of  them  said  to  a 
gentleman  by  their  side  :  *  In  a  few  moments  we  shall  be  at 
home.'     They  were  indeed  nearer  home  than  they  thought. 

"  Henry  E.  B.  Stowe  was  the  eldest  son  of  his  father's  family. 
On  the  9th  of  July,  while  bathing  in  the  Connecticut  River,  he 
was  drowned.  But  we  sorrow  not  as  those  without  hope :  his 
race  was  quickly  run." 

We  are  not  surprised,  therefore,  that  we  detect  in  most  of  the 
letters  of  this  year  a  tinge  of  sadness  accompanied  with  increased 
spiritual  tenderness,  as  if  he  were  finding  the  sources  of  consola- 
tion for  himself,  that  he  might  lead  others  to  them. 

Lenox  was  found  to  be  so  far  from  Brooklyn  that  it  was  given 
up  as  a  summer  home,  and  this  year,  1857,  he  spends  his  vacation 
at  Matteawan,  on  the  Hudson.  His  first  letter  gives  us  this  bit  of 
characteristic  description  : 

"  We  are  living  in  a  pleasant  old  house,  around  which  fruit- 
trees  have  grown  in  which  birds  have  bred  and  lived  unmolested 
from  year  to  year.  It  is  but  a  dozen  wing-beats  from  the  trees 
to  the  mountain  woods.  Nothing  can  please  a  meditative  bird 
better  than  to  have  domestic  scenes  on  one  side  and  the  seclusion 
of  the  wilderness  on  the  other.  A  bird  loves  a  kind  of  shy  fa- 
miliarity. Here  we  have  a  garden,  a  door-yard,  an  orchard,  and 
a  barn  grouped  together  ;  and  they  on  the  other  side  have  the 
young  forests  of  scooped   mountain-side.      So  the  birds  come 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


373 


down  here  for  fun  and  go  up  there  for  reflection.     This  is  their 
world  ;   that  is  their  cathedral." 

"  [n  the  Mountain  and  the  Closet  "  he  is  speaking  out  of  his 
own  experience  : 

"The  influences  which  brood  upon  the  soul  in  such  a  covert 
as  the  closet  are  not  like  the  coarse  stimulants  of  earthly  thought. 
The  soul  rises  to  its  highest  nature  and  meets  the  influences  that 
rest  upon  it  from  above.  What  are  its  depths  of  calmness, 
what  is  the  vision  of  faith,  what  is  the  rapture,  the  ecstasy  of 
love,  the  closet  knows  more  grandly  than  all  other  places  of  hu- 
man experience." 

It  is  not  all  sadness  even  in  this  year  of  the  minor  key.  In 
August  we  have  a  long  article  upon  "  Hours  of  Exaltation,"  in 
which  he  gives  us  some  of  those  higher  experiences  which  were 
common  to  him  : 

" .  .  .  We  are  filled  with  the  very  affluence  of  peacefulness 
and  joy.  There  is  neither  sorrow,  nor  want,  nor  madness,  nor 
trouble  in  the  wide  world.  The  glory  of  the  Lord,  that  at  other 
times  hangs  upon  the  horizon  like  embattled  clouds  full  gorgeous 
with  the  sun,  on  such  days  as  we  have  described  descends  and 
fills  the  whole  earth.  The  impassioned  language  of  the  psalm- 
ists and  prophets,  which  on  other  days  is  lifted  up  so  high  above 
our  imaginations  that  we  can  scarcely  hear  it,  now  comes  down 
and  sounds  all  its  grandeur  in  our  ears.  The  mountains  do 
praise  the  Lord  ;  the  trees  clap  their  hands.  The  clouds  are  His 
chariot  and  bear  Him  through  the  air,  leaving  brightness  and  joy 
along  their  path.  The  birds  know  their  King.  The  flowers  lift 
up  their  hands,  and  with  the  silent  tongue  of  perfume  praise  God 
with  choice  odors.     The  whole  earth  doth  praise  Thee." 

In  September  of  this  year  he  visits  Litchfield  with  his  father 
— the  latter  for  the  first  time  since  he  had  moved  to  Boston — and 
writes  a  letter  upon  "  An  Aged  Pastor's  Return  "  : 

"  A  man  past  eighty  going  through  the  streets,  to  visit  all  the 
fathers  and  mothers  in  Israel  that  had  been  young  in  his  ministry 
there,  was  a  scene  not  a  little  memorable.  One  patriarch  in  his 
ninety-ninth  year,  when  his  former  pastor  came  into  the  room, 
spoke  not  a  word,  but  rose  up  and,  putting  his  trembling  arms 
around  his  neck,  burst  into  tears.  .  .  ." 

"  The  particular  errand  that  brought  us  hither  was  a  lecture. 
A  new  organ  was  to  be  bought.     All  Litchfield  boys   were  per- 


374  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

mitted  to  help.  Our  contribution  was  asked  in  the  shape  of  a 
lecture.  My  part  was  soon  done.  Then  the  aged  pastor  came 
forward.  A  crowd  of  old  and  young  gathered  at  the  pulpit- 
stairs  to  greet  the  hand  that  had  baptized  them  or  had  broken  to 
them  the  bread  of  life.  It  was  a  scene  of  few  words.  One  wo- 
man gave  her  name,  but  was  not  recognized  in  her  married  name. 
She  then  mentioned  her  maiden  name.  That  touched  a  hidden 
spring.  Both  burst  into  tears,  but  spoke  no  words.  The  history 
came  up  instantly  before  both,  but  silently,  which  had  occasioned 
the  preaching  of  those  sermons  upon  intemperance  whose  influ- 
ence for  good  will  never  cease." 

And  now  he  points  to  one  of  the  dangers  which  he  has 
learned  to  avoid,  and  opens  to  us  some  of  the  lessons  which  he 
has  himself  learned  from  the  experiences  of  this  year  : 

"  Many  troubles  in  life  cease  when  we  cease  to  nurse  them, 

"  Many  troubles  are  but  the  strain  which  we  endure  when 
God  would  carry  us  the  right  way  and  we  insist  upon  going  the 
wrong.  Troubles  come  to  us  like  mire  and  filth,  but  when  well 
mingled  they  change  to  flower  and  fruit. 

"  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  and  thought  of  with  thankful- 
ness that  although  a  heavy  pecuniary  pressure  has  been  resting 
on  the  community,  nothing  perishes.  No  ships  will  rot,  as  under 
embargo  ;  stores  will  not  go  down  ;  not  a  wheel  will  rust,  but 
only  rest  ;  the  railroads,  whose  creation  has  cost  us  so  much,  are 
created,  and  will  not  go  back  but  thunder  on.  Not  an  acre  will 
go  again  to  the  forest  ;  not  a  seed  will  rot. 

11  We  shall  hold  the  substantial  elements  gained,  losing  no  art,. 
no  science,  no  ideas,  no  habits,  no  skill,  no  industry,  nothing  but 
a  little  temporary  comfort  ;  and  for  that  we  shall  receive  back 
steadiness,  safety,  reality,  and  consolation  worth  a  thousand- 
fold." 

That  there  had  been  no  diminution  of  the  prosperity  of  the 
church  appears  from  an  announcement  in  one  of  the  New  York 
papers  of  the  annual  pew-renting,  which  took  place  January  7  of 
the  following  year  : 

"  The  membership  of  Plymouth  Church  was  never  so  large  as 
at  present,  and  the  size  of  the  congregation  is  undiminished. 
The  building  admits  of  an  audience  of  about  three  thousand  per- 
sons, and  it  is  not  an  uncommon  occurrence  on  a  pleasant  Sun- 
day evening  for  fully  as  great  a  number  as  this  to  go  away  from 


REV,  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER,  375 

the  church-doors,   unable  to  get  even   standing-room   within   the 

walls." 

It'  the  year  1857  was  one  of  sadness,  that  of  1858  was  one  of 

rejoicing.  The  sowing  with  tears  was  followed  by  the  reaping 
with  joy.  Never  in  the  history  of  our  country  were  revivals  of 
religion  so  frequent,  so  deep  and  wide-spread,  as  in  the  year  that 
followed  the  great  financial  disasters  of  1857.  The  shattering  of 
men's  hopes  of  wealth,  the  disturbance  and  destruction  of  their 
confidence  in  material  things,  was  followed  by  a  very  general 
turning  to  those  things  that  endure.  From  a  little  book  en- 
titled "  The  Revival  in  Plymouth  Church,"  published  anony- 
mously, from  the  testimony  of  those  who  were  active  at  that 
time,  and  from  letters  and  sermons  besides,  we  get  a  very  clear 
idea  of  the  part  which  Mr.  Beecher  took  in  this  great  work  and 
the  methods  he  pursued.  Near  the  close  of  the  year  preceding  he 
had  received  a  letter  from  a  young  man  in  New  York,  who  de- 
scribed himself  as  slowly  but  surely  sinking  beneath  the  tempta- 
tions which  he  could  not  escape,  and  who  implored  help  from  the 
destruction  that  hung  over  him.  He  said,  "  Preach  to  me  the  ter- 
rors of  the  law,  anything  to  arouse  me  from  this  fearful  lethargy." 
Mr.  Beecher  read  the  appeal  to  his  audience,  and  answered  it  by 
preaching  on  the  love  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ  as  the  only  remedy 
for  man's  sin  and  the  only  power  for  his  salvation,  and  said  :  "If 
this  remedy  fails  I  know  of  no  other.  If  love  will  not  save  you, 
fear  will  be  of  no  avail."  He  then  led  the  congregation  in  a 
most  earnest  and  tender  prayer  for  that  young  man  and  for  the 
great  multitude  which  he  represented. 

It  was  by  such  means  as  this,  enlisting  the  feeling  of  his  audi- 
ence in  specific  cases,  awakening  and  directing  the  sympathies 
of  the'  church,  that  the  work  began.  He  disclaimed  any  confi- 
dence in  a  revival,  born  of  mere  excitement,  carefully  explained 
God's  methods  in  saving  men,  and  threw  the  whole  responsibility 
for  success  upon  Christians.  If  their  hearts  were  filled  with  the 
love  of  God  the  influence  would  be  felt  with  power  by  those 
around  them. 

On  the  last  Sabbath  in  February  he  preached  upon  the  rea- 
sonableness, usefulness,  and  Scriptural  nature  of  revivals,  com- 
bated objections  against  them,  and  finally  brought  it  home  to  the 
conscience  of  his  people  :  "  Ought  you  not  to  have  a  revival  ? " 

On  the  next  Sabbath,  at  the  communion  season,  he  preached 


376  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

upon  the  words,  "  For  so  an  entrance  shall  be  ministered  unto 
you  abundantly  into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,"  holding  up  before  his  people  with  great 
clearness  and  tenderness  the  privileges  and  the  infinite  rewards 
of  patient,  Christian  following  and  labor.  The  father,  who 
assisted  at  the  service  which  followed,  expressed  the  feeling  of 
many  hearts  when,  in  his  prayer,  he  said  :  "  Lord,  we  thank  Thee 
for  the  opening  out  of  Thy  word  this  morning  ;  we  have  been 
brought  very  near  heaven  ;  we  see  not  how  we  can  be  any  nearer 
till  we  stand  within  the  very  gates." 

On  the  Wednesday  evening  following,  at  the  usual  weekly 
lecture,  he  spoke  to  a  crowded  audience  upon  the  conversion  of 
the  Philippian  jailer.  It  was  a  service  of  confession  of  the  lack 
of  faith  in  the  ever-present  grace  of  God,  of  instruction  con- 
cerning the  spirit  and  methods  of  the  apostles,  and  of  guidance  to 
any  who  were  seeking  light  and  peace.  A  prayer-meeting  fol- 
lowed, at  which  any  who  desired  prayers  for  themselves  or 
others  were  given  opportunity  to  make  their  desire  known,  and 
the  work  was  begun. 

"  Morning  meetings  were  opened  daily,  and  were  attended 
by  ever-increasing  numbers,  while  so  many  remained  afterward 
for  instruction  that  the  pastor's  work  was  rarely  over  before 
eleven  or  twelve  o'clock.  '  He  called  in  lieutenants  of  both  sexes, 
who  helped  him  in  the  work.  No  one  who  attended  on  those 
occasions  can  ever  forget  the  fascinating  mixture  of  tenderness, 
earnestness,  pathos,  dry  humor,  quick  wit,  and  sound  common 
sense  that  ran  through  all  the  instruction  of  those  meetings. 
One  would  be  told  to  pray;  another,  whose  knees  were  almost 
worn  out  and  whose  mind  was  diseased  with  useless  anxiety, 
was  told  in  the  next  breath  to  stop  praying  and  go  to  sweeping  ; 
the  many  timid  and  shrinking  ones  were  encouraged  into  freedom, 
while  one  or  two,  who  thought  that  all  the  angels  were  anxiously 
awaiting  the  news  of  their  conversion  before  the  business  of 
heaven  could  proceed,  were  taken  down  by  a  little  quiet  humor 
that  cured  yet  did  not  wound  ;  and  all  alike  were  brought  into  the 
one  fold.  Under  such  influences  and  instructions  three  hundred 
and  thirty-five  persons  united  with  the  church  this  season. 

"  The  morning  prayer-meeting  has  been  in  Plymouth  Church 
emphatically  a  '  love-feast,'  the  attractive  influences  being  love 
to   Christ,  to  the  pastor,  and  to  one  another  in  full  and  lively 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  377 

exercise.     No  better  description  of  these  meetings  can  be  given 

than  that  of  a  happy  ami  united  family  gathering  together,  under 
the  guidance  of  a  beloved  and  honored  father,  tor  morning  wor- 
ship. No  wonder  that  men  as  they  passed  along  the  street, 
though  unused  to  a  prayer-meeting,  could  not  resist  the  voice  of 
song  which  fell  on  their  ear  daily  in  the  sweet  morning  hour  ;  and 
no  wonder  that,  once  having  entered,  they  should  be  fascinated 
by  the  scene  which  met  their  eye  and  warmed  by  the  atmosphere 
of  love  which  they  breathed,  and  should  return  saying  :  '  Surely 
God  is  in  this  place,  though  we  knew  it  not  ;  this  is  indeed  the 
house  of  God,  and  this  is  none  other  than  the  gate  of  heaven.' 
There  was  no  such  feeling  as  that  smiles,  or  even  an  honest 
laugh,  were  sinful  ;  smiles  and  tears  mingled  in  curious  proxim- 
ity, without  any  attempt  at  restraint  ;  in  short,  everything  was 
natural. 

"  At  the  close  of  a  meeting,  when,  owing  to  the  quaintness  of 
speech  of  some  of  the  brethren,  especially  the  newly-awakened 
ones,  in  the  relation  of  their  varied  experiences,  we  had  laughed 
and  cried  alternately,  the  one  as  heartily  as  the  other,  Mr. 
Beecher  said  :  '  I  call  you  to  witness  whether  this  has  not  been  a 
good  meeting,  whether  there  has  not  been  a  tender  spirit  among 
us,  and  whether  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost  has  not  been 
here  ?  I  say  this  because,  as  you  know,  many  persons  entertain 
the  opinion  that  laughing  is  quite  inexpedient  on  such  occasions 
as  these  and  a  sure  means  of  grieving  away  the  Spirit.  Bear 
this  meeting  in  mind,  and  let  it  be  your  answer  to  the  charge 
of  irreverence  whenever  it  may  be  brought  against  us  on  this 
score.'  " 

He  gave  one  of  his  own  experiences  : 

uYou  know  that  my  usual  frame  of  mind  is  hopefulness. 
I  am  apt  to  look  at  the  bright  side  of  things  and  take  cheerful 
views  of  life.  On  this  very  account  an  occasional  experience  of 
sadness  is  an  inexpressible  luxury  to  me.  Last  night,  I  know  not 
why,  but  I  could  not  sleep  for  some  hours.  I  lay  restlessly,  turn- 
ing from  side  to  side,  till  this  morning  between  one  and  two. 
No  sooner  was  I  asleep  than  it  seemed  to  me  I  was  in  an  Episco- 
pal church,  robed  in  black,  where  a  clergyman  was  celebrating 
the  Lent  service.  By  and  by  he  ascended  the  pulpit  and  began 
to  speak.  There  was  no  eloquence  in  his  language,  nor  anything 
particularly  striking  in  his  mode  of  dealing  with  his  subject,  but 


3/8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

his  heart  was  evidently  in  it.  He  was  setting  forth  in  simple  lan- 
guage the  sufferings  of  Jesus,  and  as  I  listened  there  seemed  to 
rise  up  before  me  a  vivid  conception  of  the  Saviour  in  His  last 
agony  on  Calvary.  I  gazed  till  the  tears  gushed  from  my  eyes, 
and  I  awoke  to  find  my  pillow  soaking  wet.  I  composed  myself 
again  to  sleep,  and  my  imagination  took  up  the  stitch  just  where 
I  had  dropped  it,  and  knitted  on.  I  beheld  the  same  vision, 
and  again  the  tears  flowed.  I  gazed  and  wept  until  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  my  very  soul  would  dissolve  and  the  fountain  of 
tears  be  itself  exhausted.  Again  I  awoke,  and,  again  falling 
asleep,  the  vision  was  for  the  third  time  repeated,  and  I  seemed 
to  weep  my  very  life  away.  I  know  not  when  I  had  before 
such  a  sweet,  rich  experience  of  the  love  of  my  Saviour  ;  and 
when  I  awoke  finally  this  morning,  it  was  with  a  tenderness  of 
soul  I  cannot  well  describe.  I  was  thankful  I  did  not  sleep 
sooner,  and  that  when  I  did  sleep  I  made  such  good  use  of 
my  time." 

Opportunity  was  given  at  these  meetings  to  any  who  wished 
to  ask  the  brethren  to  pray  for  themselves  or  for  others,  and  was 
largely  used.  A  little  before  the  close  of  the  meeting  Mr. 
Beecher  would  rise,  and,  taking  the  slips  of  paper  that  covered 
his  table,  read  from  them  aloud.  After  reading  these  he  would 
ask,  "  Are  there  any  here  who  desire  to  make  requests  on  behalf 
of  their  friends?"  And  then  when  these  had  all  been  made  he 
would  say,  "  Are  there  any  who  desire  to  ask  on  their  own  ac- 
count ? "  Then  having  caught  the  eye  of  each  as  they  arose,  and 
acknowledged  the  request  by  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head,  in 
token  of  recognition,  until  they  ceased  rising,  "  in  a  low,  soft  tone 
would  come  the  words,  '  Let  us  unite  in  prayer,'  and  instantly 
every  head  was  bowed.  The  prayers  which  followed  these  scenes 
were  the  most  precious  opportunities  of  communion  with  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  which  we  were  ever  permitted  to  enjoy.  We  believe 
that  he  who  uttered  them  was  taught  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  that 
he  spake  as  the  Spirit  gave  him  utterance.  There  was  an  exube- 
rance of  faith  and  love  in  these  utterances  not  usually  found  in 
prayer  ;  a  gladness  on  the  part  of  the  speaker,  and  a  recognized 
consciousness  of  gladness  on  the  part  of  Christ.  They  were  the 
breathings  of  love  into  a  loving  ear."  "We  always  concluded 
with  a  hymn,  for  Mr.  Beecher  was  wont  to  say  that  he  liked  to 
send  us  away  with  a  full  tide  of  song,  and  for  a  long  time  our 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHEE.  379 

choice  for  concluding  hymns  lay  between  'Shining  Shore*  and 
'  Homeward  Bound.'  " 

March  27,  1858,  Mr.  Beecher  gave  a  twenty-minute  ad- 
dress in  Burton's  old  theatre  in  Chambers  Street  at  the  noon 
prayer-meeting.     "I  wish  to  leave  the  impression  that  the  matter 

Of  salvation  is  a  matter  between  your  own  heart  and  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  ;    that  there  is  between  you    a  sympathy  so  plain 

that  there  is  no  need  of  any  interference.  You  may  become  a 
Christian  now,  and  go  home  to  your  household  and  be  enabled  to 
a>k  a  blessing  at  your  table  to-day." 

Letters  are  frequent  this  year  upon  subjects  like  this,  "  Trust 
in  Cod  ": 

"  We  ought  not  to  forget  that  an  affectionate,  confiding,  tender 
faith,  habitually  exercised,  would  save  us  half  the  annoyances  of 
life,  for  it  would  lift  us  above  the  reach  of  them.  If  an  eagle 
were  to  fly  low  along  the  ground  every  man  might  aim  a  dart  at 
it  ;  but  when  it  soars  into  the  clouds  it  is  above  every  arrow's 
reach.  And  they  that  trust  in  God  'shall  mount  up  with  wings 
as  eagles  ;  they  shall  run  and  not  be  weary  ;  they  shall  walk  and 
not  faint.'" 

About  this  time  he  answers  a  criticism  that  appeared  in  sev- 
eral papers  upon  the  extravagant  income  of  Plymouth  Church  : 

11  It  is  easy  to  stand  off  and  rail.  Will  any  one  suggest  a  plan 
by  which  five  thousand  men  can  be  put  into  a  church  that  can 
hold  only  three  thousand  ? 

"  The  poor  should  be  held  in  lively  remembrance.  But  ought 
we  to  provide  for  the  poor  in  a  way  that  shall  punish  those  who 
are  not  poor  ?  .  .  . 

"  In  closing  we  will  only  say  that  from  the  beginning  no 
church  ever  more  conscientiously  endeavored  to  give  the  Gospel 
to  all  classes,  rich  and  poor,  resident  or  strangers.  For  ten  years 
the  members  of  this  society  have  cheerfully  submitted  to  an  in- 
convenience, for  the  sake  of  the  poor  and  of  strangers,  such  as 
has  rarely  had  a  parallel.  Gentlemen  have  paid  hundreds  of 
dollars  for  pews  which  were,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  Sab- 
bath in  the  year,  more  or  less  filled  with  the  poor. 

"  Every  Sabbath  day  families  who  have  paid  hundreds  of  dol- 
lars for  a  pew,  coming  to  church,  find  it  pre-occupied  by  the  poor 
and  the  stranger,  and  it  is  a  rare  exception  that  in  such  cases 
there  is  any  irritation. 


380  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  Generally  the  owner,  distributing  his  family  as  best  he  can, 
takes  a  seat  in  the  aisle  or  stands  in  the  entry.  And  this  is  not 
an  occasional  thing.  It  is  the  regular  experience  of  the  congre- 
gation, year  after  year." 

The  year  1859  opens  with  some  very  characteristic  letters 
from  Mr.  Beecher.  He  had  been  charged  with  having  held  the 
doctrine  of  total  depravity  up  to  ridicule  in  a  lecture  which 
he  delivered  in  Boston.  This  brings  from  him  a  letter,  two  or 
three  passages  of  which  we  here  transcribe  : 

•"  But  although  we  did  not  employ  the  phrase  total  depravity 
in  any  opprobrious  sense  at  the  time  mentioned,  we  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  say  that  we  regard  it  as  one  of  the  most  unfortunate  and 
misleading  terms  that  ever  afflicted  theology.  .  .  . 

"  On  the  other  hand,  we  do  believe,  with  continual  sorrow  of 
heart  and  daily  overflowing  evidence,  in  the  deep  sinfulness  of 
universal  man.  .  .  .  We  heartily  hate  the  phrase  total  depravity, 
and  never  feel  inclined  to  use  it  except  when  reading  the  ethics 
of  or  the  religious  editorials  of  ." 

He  was  shortly  after  this  attacked  for  lecturing  in  a  "  Frater- 
nity Course  "  in  the  same  city.  This  calls  out  a  long  answer 
upon  "  Working  with  Errorists,"  in  which  he  says  : 

"  I  have  long  ago  been  convinced  that  it  was  better  to  love 
men  than  to  hate  them,  that  one  would  be  more  likely  to  convince 
them  of  wrong  belief  by  showing  a  cordial  sympathy  with  their 
welfare  than  by  nipping  and  pinching  them  with  logic.  And 
although  I  do  not  disdain  but  honor  philosophy  applied  to  re- 
ligion, I  think  that  the  world  just  now  needs  the  Christian  heart 
more  than  anything  else.  And  even  if  the  only  and  greatest 
question  were  the  propagation  of  the  right  theology,  I  am  confi- 
dent that  right  speculative  views  will  grow  up  faster  and  firmer 
in  the  summer  of  true  Christian  loving  than  in  the  rigorous 
winter  of  solid,  congealed  orthodoxy  or  the  blustering  March  of 
controversy.  .  .  . 

"  If  tears  could  wash  away  from  Mr.  Parker's  eyes  the  hin- 
drances, that  he  might  behold  Christ  as  I  behold  and  adore  Him, 
I  would  shed  them  without  reserve.  If  prayers  could  bring 
to  him  this  vision  of  glory,  beyond  sight  of  philosophy,  I  would 
for  him  besiege  the  audience-chamber  of  heaven  with  an  end- 
less procession  of  prayers,  until  another  voice,  sounding  forth 
from  another  light  brighter  than  the  noonday  sun,   should  cast 


V    HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  3X1 

down  another  blinded  man,  to  be  Lifted  up  an  apostle  with  in- 
spired vision. 

"  But  since  I  may  not  hope  so  to  prevail,  I  at  least  will  carry 
him  in  my  heart  ;  1  will  cordially  work  with  him  when  I  can,  and 
be  heartily  sorry  when   1  cannot. 

"  While  we  yet  write  word  comes  that  Mr.  Parker,  broken 
down  by  over-labor,  seeks  rest  and  restoration  in  a  warmer  cli- 
mate. Should  these  lines  reach  his  eyes  let  him  know  that  one 
heart  at  least  remembers  his  fidelity  to  man  in  great  public  exi- 
gencies, when  so  many  swerved  of  whom  we  had  a  right  to 
expect  better  things.  God  shield  him  from  the  ocean,  the  storm, 
the  pestilence,  and  heal  him  of  lurking  disease  !  And  there  shall 
be  one  Christian  who  will  daily  speak  his  name  to  the  heart  of 
God  in  earnest  prayer,  that  with  health  of  body  he  may  receive 
upon  his  soul  the  greatest  gift  of  God — faith  in  Jesus  Christ  as 
the  Divine  Saviour  of  the  world." 

Another  incident  calls  forth  a  similar  response  : 

"  At  the  recent  celebration  of  Tom  Paine's  birthday  at  Cin- 
cinnati the  infidels  present  toasted  :  '  The  heretic  clergy,  Parker, 
Emerson,  Conway,  Chapin,  Beecher,  and  all  who  love  man  above 
all  creeds,  and  sects,  and  rituals,  and  observances,  who  regard  man 
as  the  highest  and  holiest  and  most  sacred  of  all  in  the  uni- 
verse— may  their  motto  be  :  Ever  onward,  greater  freedom,  and 
clearer  light.'  "  Having  disclaimed  any  distinction  as  one  who 
loves  man  more  than  creeds,  since  this  is  "  true  of  all  Chris- 
tians when  they  are  in  their  most  Christian  disposition,"  and 
having  accepted  their  motto  as  being  in  line  with  sundry  pas- 
sages of  Scripture,  he  gives  his  true  and  honest  feeling  towards 
them  in  these  words  : 

"  Let  no  man  think  that  we  despise  the  sympathy  and  well- 
wishing  of  a  convention  of  infidels.  We  thank  them  for  their 
kind  feelings.  Like  our  Master,  we  had  rather  discourse  with 
publicans  and  sinners  than  dine  with  the  most  select  and  eminent 
Pharisee.  But  we  love  a  true  Christian  better  than  either. 
But,  infidel  or  Pharisee,  all  need  the  grace  of  God,  and  all, 
by  repentance  of  sin  and  faith  in  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  sinners, 
may  yet  meet  in  heaven. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  Cincinnati  convention  of  infidels  !  we 
should  be  ashamed  to  be  less   kind    and    courteous    than    you 


$8  2  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

have  been,  and  in  concluding  we  take  leave  of  you  kindly,  say- 
ing,  in  the  words  of  Inspired  Writ  : 

"  4  Now  may  the  God  of  peace,  that  brought  again  from  the 
dead  our  Lord  Jesus,  that  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  through 
the  blood  of  the  everlasting  covenant,  make  you  perfect  in 
every  good  work  to  do  His  will,  working  in  you  that  which  is 
well  pleasing  in  His  sight,  through  Jesus  Christ.  To  whom  be 
glory  for  ever  and  ever.'  *  " 

The  setting  up  of  a  new  organ  in  Plymouth  Church  this  win- 
ter is  thus  duly  announced  : 

"The  organ  long  expected  has  arrived,  been  unpacked,  set 
up,  and  glorified  over.  It  has  piped,  fluted,  trumpeted,  brayed, 
thundered.  It  has  played  so  loud  that  everybody  was  deafened, 
and  so  softly  that  nobody  could  hear." 

After  speaking  of  the  characteristics  of  the  many  organists 
who  have  tried  it,  and  of  one  who  was  an  especially  brilliant 
player,  he  says  :  "  But  he  was  not  a  Christian  man,  and  the  organ 
was  not  to  him  a  Christian  instrument,  but  simply  a  grand  Gothic 
instrument,  to  be  studied  just  as  a  mere  Protestant  would  study  a 
cathedral,  in  the  mere  spirit  of  architecture  and  not  at  all  in  sym- 
pathy with  its  religious  signification  or  uses.  And  before  long 
he  went  abroad  to  perfect  himself  in  his  musical  studies,  but 
not  till  a  most  ludicrous  event  befell  him.  On  a  Christmas  day 
a  great  performance  was  to  be  given.  The  church  was  full ;  all 
were  musically  expectant.  It  had  been  given  out  that  something 
might  be  expected.  And  surely  something  was  had  a  little  more 
than  was  expected.  For  when  every  stop  was  drawn,  that  the 
opening  might  be  with  a  grand  choral  effect,  the  down-pressing  of 
his  hands  brought  forth  not  only  the  full  expected  chord,  but  also 
a  cat  that  by  some  strange  chance  had  got  into  the  organ.  She 
went  up  over  the  top  as  if  gunpowder  had  helped  her.  Down 
she  plunged  into  the  choir,  to  the  track  around  the  front  bulwark 
of  the  gallery,  until  opposite  the  pulpit,  when  she  dashed  down 
one  of  the  supporting  columns,  made  for  the  broad  aisle,  when  a 
little  dog  joined  in  the  affray,  and  both  went  down  toward  the 
street-door  at  an  astonishing  pace.  Our  organist,  who,  on  the 
first  appearance  of  this  element  in  his  piece,  snatched  back  his 
hands,  had  forgotten  to  relax  his  muscles,  and  was  to  be  seen 
following  the  cat  with  his  eyes,  with  his  head  turned,  while  his 
astonished  hands  stood  straight  out  before  him,  rigid  as  marble!  " 


REV.  ///..vat  WARD  BEECHER.  ;S; 

In  the  spring  of  this  year  he  purchased  a  farm  in   Peekskilt, 

and   explains   his   object   as   follows  : 

"  1  knew  that  the  place  was  good  for  grass,  for  grain,  and  for 
fruits,  of  all  which  I  talked  a  good  deal  during  the  preliminary 
approaches  to  a  purchase,  but  for  which  I  cared  about  as  niu<  h 
as  I  should  whether  the  inside  of  my  boots  were  red  or  yellow. 

"If  the  thing  must  be  told — and  I  mention  it  to  you,  Mr. 
Bonner,  confidentially— it  was  the  remarkable  aptitude  of  the 
place  for  eye-crops  that  caught  my  fancy.  It  was  not  so  much 
what  grew  upon  the  place,  as  what  you  could  see  off  from  it, 
that  won  me.  It  is  a  great  stand  for  the  eye.  If  a  man  can 
get  rich  by  /oofa'//o,  I  am  on  the  royal  road  to  wealth.  And, 
indeed,  it  is  true  wealth  that  the  eye  gets,  and  the  ear  and  all 
the  finer  senses  ;  riches  that  cannot  be  hoarded  or  squandered  ; 
that  all  may  have  in  common  ;  that  come  without  meanness 
and  abide  without  corrupting.  So  long  as  it  remains  true  that 
the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  earth  His  handi- 
work, so  long  will  men  find  both  heart-wealth  and  strength  by 
a  reverent  admiration  of  the  one  and  a  sympathetic  familiarity 
with  the  other." 

In  a  letter  to  his  daughter  he  describes  the  new  home  : 

".  .  .  Farm — I  wrote  so  far  at  home,  but  being  interrupted 
have  brought  it  up  to  the  green  hills.  You  will  be  quite 
ashamed  to  think  that  Matteaw-an  ever  seemed  beautiful  to  you 
when  you  shall  have  seen  this  place.  It  has  no  wild  or  romantic 
features,  but  it  is  full  of  soft,  nice,  beautiful  views-  No  barren 
fields  are  seen,  no  brown  pasture-lands,  no  rugged  hills — the  very 
mountains  in  the  horizon  are  carved  into  round  and  graceful 
shapes.  The  near  hills  are  round,  gentle,  smooth,  and  verduous 
to  the  very  top.  Only  one  summit  is  rugged  and  wild,  and  we 
keep  that  in  the  distant  foreground  as  a  contrast  to  all  the  other 
graceful  shapes.  The  river  in  the  distance  is  like  a  lake,  except 
the  fleets  of  sloops  and  schooners  give  it  a  sense  of  navigation. 
From  the  top  hill  of  the  farm  you  can  see  almost  as  wide  a  pros- 
pect as  from  Bald  Mountain  in  Salisbury — on  the  north  and  east, 
wild,  mountainous,  solitary  ;  but  all  the  rest  beautiful  and  culti- 
vated, with  the  Hudson  rolling  along  the  west.  I  have  traced 
a  rude  diagram*  on  the  opposite  page,  but  it  will  be  only  just 

*  The  Publishers  regret  that  the  diagram  could  not  be  given. 


384  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

better  than  nothing,  though  you  must  confess  that  it  is  exceed- 
ingly well  drawn  for  me  ! 

" .  .  .  I  heard  from  H yesterday.     He  is  well  and  lively, 

and  wrote  me  quite  a  sprightly  and  witty  letter.     W is  round, 

rosy,  curly,  and  loving  as  usual.  B ,  the  rogue,  is  fairly  recov- 
ering from  a  double  charge  of  scarlet-fever  and  whooping-cough, 
and  is  becoming  most  healthfully  saucy." 

Early  in  the  autumn  they  returned  from  the  country  and  be- 
gan life  again  in  the  city.  We  give  copies  of  several  letters 
written  to  his  daughter  : 

"  Brooklyn,  Sept.  4,  1859. 

" ...  In  the  beginning  let  me  say,  my  dear  child,  that  I 
heartily  approve  of  all  that  you  have  done.  I  am  not  a  super- 
stitious observer  of  the  Sabbath,  nor  do  I  hold  to  the  rigor  either 
of  the  Jewish  or  the  Puritan  Sabbath.  But  I  do  believe  that  one- 
seventh  part  of  our  time  was  originally  appointed  for  rest,  for 
home-society,  and  for  religious  culture.  .  .  . 

"  When  I  was  myself  in  Paris  I  acted  just  as  I  do  in  Brook- 
lyn. I  took  no  more  liberties,  and  was  quite  as  observant  of  my 
home  proprieties.  And  I  must  say  that  I  do  not  relish  the  idea  of 
our  young  countrymen  going  to  Europe  to  learn  how  to  get  rid 
of  religious  habits.  Foreign  travel  should  improve  our  manners, 
increase  our  information,  enlarge  our  experience  of  men,  enrich 
our  imagination,  cultivate  our  tastes,  but  not  enervate  our  con- 
science. .  .  . 

M  Everything  is  going  well  at  the  farm.  I  have  bought  a  yoke 
of  cattle,  white  with  mottled  necks  and  red  heads  ;  also  two 
Ayrshire  calves,  and  a  little  bull  calf  of  the  same  breed.  Your 
mother  is  driving  away  at  her  cheeses  in  the  most  housewifely 
style.  She  has  already  made,  eaten,  and  given  away  two  or  three, 
and  she  has  four  or  five  on  hand,  good  large  ones,  which  are  to 
grow  old  for  city  use.  Already  I  imagine  myself  a  nimble  little 
maggot  making  the  cheese  fly.  The  pet  ponies  do  bravely,  the 
pigs  are  fat  and  flourishing,  the  chickens  comely,  and  the  ducks 
noisy  but  drawing  very  near  to  doom  and  dinner. 

"  I  would  not  advise  you  to  use  wine  unless  you  are  weak  and 
it  is  recommended  by  judicious  advisers  for  real  reasons  of 
health  ;  and  then  I  should  take  it  frankly  and  without  hesitation. 
But  while  you  do  not  use  it,  you  are  not  bound  to  take  it  on  any 
occasion  for  others'  sake.     If  the  occasion  comes,  call  for  a  glass 


REV.  HENRY  WARD   BEECHER.  385 

oi  water  and  calmly  lift  that  to  your  lips.  But  more  of  this  by 
and   by.      1    have  no  objection  to  your  learning  to  Jd)hc   as  a  part 

of  physical  education." 

The  home  life  m  Brooklyn  ran  undisturbed  through  the 
autumn,  until,  early  in  i860,  a  serious  accident  befell  Mrs. 
Beecher,  which   Mr.  Beecher  describes  in  the  following  letter: 

"  February  ii,  i860. 
"  My  dear  Child  H : 

"  I  suppose  you  will  not  scold  me  if  I  relieve  your  mother  of 
letter-writing  this  steamer  ;  it  is,  I  think,  the  first  time  she  has 
missed.  But  she  is  too  lame  to  write  to-day,  having  had  an  acci- 
dent that  ougJit  to  have  killed  her,  and  that  would  have  killed 
anybody  else.  And  that  your  fears  may  not  magnify  the  matter,  I 
shall  go  back  and  describe  it  all  to  you. 

"  On  Wednesday  last,  February    8,    she  took  the   horse  and 

chaise  (a  /W-wheeled  chaise,  which  we  have  bought  of  Mr.  M ), 

and  started  to  go  to  New  York  and  meet  and  bring  me  home 
from  the  New  Haven  depot.  Eliza  and  Bertie  were  taken  in, 
the  former  to  go  over  to  the  Hudson  River  Railroad  for  milk, 
and  Bertie  for  the  ride.  The  horse  was  spirited  and  soon  got 
under  way  beyond  control,  but  did  not  run  till,  turning  into 
Hicks  Street  from  Orange,  she  dashed  off  like  lightning,  ran  to 
Fulton  Street  and  right  across  it,  up  on  to  the  pavement  and 
headlong  on  to  the  Brooklyn  Bank  steps.  The  carriage  was 
broken  and  turned  over,  and  all,  of  course,  heaped  up  together — 
horse,  chaise,  and  people.  Men  sprang  to  the  horse,  held  and 
detached  her  ;  others  succored  the  party.  Bertie  had  a  smart 
thump  on  his  right  eye,  or  above  it,  which  has  done  him  no  harm, 
and  he  has  not  been  kept  in  from  his  play,  though  made  a  little 
homelier  than  he  was  before.  Eliza  was  thrown  against  the  stone 
and  a  smart  slit  cut  in  her  head,  which  bled  profusely,  and  though 
she  has  kept  her  bed  by  the  doctor's  orders,  she  expects  to  be 
about  to-day.  Your  mother,  as  usual,  took  everybody's  share  on 
herself.  She  was  shot  out  apparently  head-first,  and  fell  upon 
the  right  side  of  her  head,  neck,  and  shoulder,  bruising  her,  but 
breaking  nothing.  She  was  insensible  when  taken  into  the  drug- 
store close  by.    I  know  not  how  H was  notified  so  soon,  but  he 

seems  to  have  been  on  the  spot  within  five  minutes,  and  mani- 
fested as  much  self-possession  and  decisive  wisdom  as  would 
have  done  credit  to  a  much  older  head.     He  gave  orders  to  have 


386 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


his  mother  taken  home,  sent  for  Dr.  Adams  to  come  to  the  drug- 
store, sent  another  messenger  to  the  stableman  to  look  after  the 
carriage  and  horse  (who,  confound  her  homely  self  !  was  but  little 
hurt),  and  then  took  a  hack  to  meet  me  at  the  New  Haven  depot 
and  bring  me  home. 

"  I  reached  the  house  very  nearly  as  soon  as  your  mother  did. 

Found  Mrs.  E B ,  Mrs.  L ,  Mrs.  B ,  Mrs.  E , 

and  one  or  two  strange  ladies  present,  the  doctor,  a  policeman 
or  two,  and  scores  of  people  running  to  and  fro  ;  yet,  in  the 
main,  there  was  order  and  good  sense. 

"  .  .  .  The  doctors  regard  her  as  out  of  danger,  but  she  will 
be  a  sufferer  for  a  week  or  more.  Everything  is  going  on  regu- 
larly in  the  house,  except  that  I  am  at  home  all  the  time,  which 
is  very  irregular  in  my  habits. 

"...  And  so  when  you  read  this  you  must  remember  that 
though  it  seems  to  you  as  if  it  had  just  happened,  it  will  have 
been  all  past,  and  your  mother  doubtless,  while  you  read,  will  be 
marching  forth  in  full  authority.  Everybody  who  saw  the  scene 
speaks  in  admiration  of  her  courage  and  skill.  She  guided  the 
horse  to  the  last,  though  she  could  not  control  her,  and  was 
game  to  the  end.  But  that  we  should  all  expect.  Nor  does  her 
courage  flinch  yet.  Some  one  said  to  her  yesterday  :  '  Well,  I 
suppose  you  will  never  drive  that  horse  again.'  '  Yes,  /  shall 
too,'  said  she  ;  and  she  shall.  We  are  very  grateful  for  her  safety 
and  merciful  deliverance,  and  although  she  will  suffer  from 
twinges,  yet,  as  there  are  no  internal  injuries,  no  bones  fractured, 
it  is  only  a  matter  of  patience.  .  .  .  Slept  very  well  and  has  the 
beginning  of  an  appetite,  although  I  am  constrained  to  say  that 
when  I  mentioned  the  little  luxury  of  gruel  as  something  appe- 
tizing and  excellent  for  her,  she  turned  up  her  nose  (I  could  not 
be  mistaken)  at  the  suggestion,  so  that  she  is  evidently  not  quite 
settled  yet  in' her  mind.  She  can  walk  slowly,  takes  her  bath, 
submits  to  packs,  and  has  refreshed  herself  once  or  twice  with  a 
hand-glass,  looking  at  the  recent  improvements  about  her  coun- 
tenance. 

"...  Love  to  all.  I  shall  keep  you  faithfully  apprised  of 
her  health,  and  you  need  not  fear  that  anything  is  a  bit  worse 
than  I  say.     I  shall  tell  the  truth.     Good-by. 

"  May  God  have  you  in  His  care  ! 

"Your  affectionate  father,  H.  W.  Beecher." 


RE  V.  HENRY  H  A  RD  BEE  CHER.  387 

"  Fl  BRUARY   14. 

"  My  dear  II : 

"  Your  aunt  has  told  you  of  your  mother,  and  little  is  to  be 
added  on  that  score.  ...  I  wish  you  would  take  all  your  gauze 
paper  and  send  it  to  Cardinal  Antonelli,  or  the  pope,  or  the 
— that  is,  burn  it  up,  tear  it  up,  crumple  it,  throw  it  away,  do 
anything  with  it  except  sending  it  to  me.  Go  forth  and  search 
and  buy  some  that  is  respectable,  for  I  wow  a  wow  that  I  will  vex 
my  eyes  no  more  with  such  intolerable  stuff.  I  feel  as  though  I 
could  say  a  little  more  with  great  comfort  to  myself,  but,  as  I 
must  receive  several  letters  before  this  reaches  you  and  reforms 
your  writing  materials,  I  reserve  a  stock  of  wrath  for  those 
several  occasions. 

"  Wednesday y  Feb.  15. — Your  mother  this  morning  is  gene- 
rally better,  though  suffering  from  cramps.     She  is  now  lying  in 

a  pack.     Mrs.  F has   been  as  good  as  an  angel,  and   a  great 

deal  more  useful.  Indeed,  I  do  not  think  much  of  angels,  un- 
less they  have  a  good   serviceable  body  on.     Of   course  Auntie 

B is  on   hand   kindly  and   constantly.      Everybody  is   kind. 

Mrs.  G has  spent  four  days  here,  two  in  the  parlors  to  re- 
ceive  company,  etc.,  and   two  with   your   mother.     Mrs.    L 

has  been  incessantly  here,  and  has  both  watched,  waited,  and  run 
for  watchers  and  nurses  without  tire  or  fatigue  We  had  a  meet- 
ing on  Monday  night  for  new  church.  The  action  of  the  trus- 
tees was  confirmed,  and  they  were  requested  to  go  ahead  im- 
mediately and  raise  the  necessary  funds,  and  as  soon  as  $100,000 
were  secured  to  proceed  to  lay  the  foundations.  I  do  not  re- 
gard the  enterprise  as  quite  sure  yet,  though  looking  favorably. 
Give  my  love  to  the  pope.  I  am  sorry  for  his  situation.  If  he 
only  sat  under  my  preaching  how  much  his  eyes  might  be 
opened  !  As  it  is,  if  he  chooses  to  write  to  me  in  regard  to  any 
of  his  little  difficulties,  I  hope  he  will  allow  no  delicacy  to  re- 
strain him.     I  will  do  the  best  I  can  for  him.     Ditto  Antonelli 

■  I  am  now  the  holder  of  your  room.  There  nap  I,  and  there 
sleep  I,  and  seldom  either  without  a  faint  shadow  of  a  rosy- 
cheeked,  Minerva-eyed  girl  that  whilom  tenanted  it.  I  have  re- 
moved the  boys,  W and  B ,  into  the  room  next  it,  for- 
merly H 's,  while  he  holds  the  front  large  room,  now  pink- 
papered  and  famously  carpeted  and  furnished.  Eliza  is  quite 
well  and  trots  about  the  house  with  a  diligence  that  shows  how 


388  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

wholesome  it  is  for  an  Irishwoman  to  have  her  head  broke.  I 
have  promised  her,  whenever  she  is  sick,  to  give  her  a  granite- 
steps  course,  instead  of  water,  as  being  much  better  adapted  to 
her  wants  and  nationality.  Give  my  love  to  all  the  great  Ameri- 
can family.  .  .  .  Remember  that  paper,  that  paper,  THAT 
PAPER ! 

"  Your  loving  and  longing  father, 

"H.  W.  B." 

"  Good-by,  old  fellow.  Give  my  love  to  Hattie,  and  tell  her 
that  her  father  hasn't  forgotten  her,"  were  the  first  words  of  Mr. 
Beecher  to  me  that  I  remember.  I  had  been  introduced  to  him 
the  evening  before,  but  he  had  just  returned  from  a  lecturing 
tour,  tired  and  sleepy,  and  if  he  said  anything  brilliant  it  has  en- 
tirely escaped  my  memory.  I  was  going,  in  company  with  Mrs. 
Stowe's  son,  to  take  a  pedestrian  tour  in  Europe.  We  expected, 
in  time,  to  join  her  party,  who  were  then  on  the  Continent,  and 
were  busy  getting  ready  to  go  on  board  ship  that  day.  It  was  a 
hearty  send  off  to  one  who  was  comparatively  a  stranger,  that 
was  very  characteristic  of  the  man. 

Of  course  I  remembered  the  message  and  gave  it  faithfully; 
and  after  several  months'  acquaintance,  travelling  in  Switzerland 
and  Italy,  made  an  addition  of  the  same  in  kind  on  my  own  ac- 
count, which  being  accepted  and  reciprocated,  we  were  married 
September  25,  1861. 

"The  innumerable  friends  of  the  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
would  hardly  forgive  us  if  we  were  to  omit  mentioning  the  pleas- 
ing incident  that  occurred  at  his  country  residence  at  Peekskill 
last  week.  On  Wednesday  morning,  after  the  dew  was  dry,  Mr. 
Beecher  chose  a  spot  under  the  shadows  of  the  trees  near  his 
garden,  where,  in  the  presence  of  a  fit  circle  of  friends  and  neigh- 
bors, he  gave  away  his  only  daughter  in  a  novel  ceremony  of 
marriage.  The  beauty  of  the  day  and  the  beauty  of  the  cere- 
mony together  rendered  the  scene  singularly  charming,  tender, 
and  impressive." 

Of  his  method  of  making  himself  acquainted  with  the  peculiar 
features  of  the  villages  in  which  he  lectured,  and  his  pleasant 
words  concerning  the  people  he  met,  the  following  letter  is  a 
good  illustration  : 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER*  389 

M  M\   dear  Doctor  : 

"  1  sent  you  a  scrap  from  the  goodly  town  of  Norwich,  N.  Y., 
in  which  1  have  most  pleasantly  spent  a  portion  of  three  days, 
and  woukl  fain  have  added  as  many  more.  It  is  one  of  the  many 
towns  in  this  Chenango  Valley  of  which  Dr.  Dwight  said  that 
the  time  would  come  when  men  of  wealth  would  leave  the  sea- 
board cities  and  retire  to  it  as  a  place  of  rare  repose. 

"  The  great  hammer  manufactory  of  the  New  World  is  also 
located  here.  What  hardware  man  has  not  seen  David  Maydok's 
name?  Many  of  the  best  improvements  in  the  hammer  have 
sprung  from  his  ingenious  skill.  But  there  is  room  for  improve- 
ment still.  Thus  our  hammers  have  the  power  of  Jiiding  them- 
selves. 

"  After  investigating  many  cases  it  becomes  plain  that  hammers 
have  a  power  of  locomotion,  and  that  when  we  are  asleep  they 
crawl  off.  We  have  never  seen  them  actually  move,  but  we  have 
almost.  We  have  found  them  on  the  ground  or  floor,  and  they 
were  probably  on  their  way  somewhere  when  we  surprised  them, 
and  then,  like  many  insects,  they  feigned  dead.  .  .  .  We  should 
be  glad  to  listen  every  night  to  as  sweet  music  as  that  which  rose 
up  before  our  window  in  Hamilton  and  in  Norwich." 

As  a  complement  to  the  above  an  experience  in  not  lecturing 
is  here  given  in  full  : 

"  St.  Louis, ,  1859. 

11  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  Brooklyn  : 

"  Dear  Sir  :  On  behalf  of  the  Mercantile  Library  Associa- 
tion of  this  city,  it  is  my  pleasant  duty  to  address  you.  We  are 
now  endeavoring  to  form  the  lecture  programme  for  our  asso- 
ciation for  the  coming  season,  and  we  wish  to  do  so  as  early  as 
possible.  Fully  appreciating  your  well-known  reputation  as  a 
lecturer  and  an  orator,  we  should  be  pleased  to  make  an  engage- 
ment with  you  for  two  or  three  lectures  the  coming  fall  and 
winter.  If  you  can  serve  us,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  give  us 
your  terms,  lime,  and  subject  as  soon  as  possible  ? 

"As  our  Association  may  not  be  well  known  to  you,  permit 
me  to  say  one  word  in  regard  to  it.  We  think  that  there  is  no 
library  association  in  this  country  that  is  in  a  more  prosperous 
condition  than  ours.  It  has  some  eighteen  hundred  members, 
and   is  rapidly  increasing.      Its  members  are  merchants,  clerks, 


390  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

and  members  from  the  several  professions.  As  a  matter  of 
course  these  members  come  from  all  parts  of  our  country,  and 
naturally  entertain  a  variety  of  views,  both  as  to  politics  and  re- 
ligion. Hence  it  becomes  our  Association  to  be  very  careful  to 
eschew  all  matters  pertaining  to  either  of  these  subjects  in  its 
lectures.  Should  you  be  so  kind  as  to  favor  us  with  a  course  of 
lectures — and  we  sincerely  hope  you  will  do  so — you  will  please 
bear  the  above  facts  in  mind.  Hoping  to  hear  from  you  at  your 
earliest  convenience,  I  remain,         Yours  truly, 

"R.  H.  D , 

"  Chair man  Lecture  Committee,  M.  L.  A." 

They  heard  from  him  at  once  as  requested,  and  this  was  the 
answer  : 

mr.  beecher's  reply. 

"  Brooklyn, ,  1859. 

"  Dear  Sir  :  I  have  received  your  letter  politely  inviting  me 
to  give  one  or  more  lectures  before  the  St.  Louis  Mercantile  Li- 
brary Association  next  fall  or  winter.  But  you  ask,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  diversity  of  opinions  among  your  members,  that  I 
should,  if  I  accepted  your  invitation,  '  eschew  all  matters  pertain- 
ing to  politics  and  religion.'  I  am  too  much  of  a  patriot  to 
eschew  the  one,  and  too  good  a  Christian  to  neglect  the  other. 
Indeed,  the  only  motive  that  I  have  for  lecturing  at  all  is  the 
hope  that  I  may  make  better  citizens  and  better  Christians  of 
my  fellow-men.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  a  course  of  lectures 
from  which  have  been  strained  out  '  all  matters  pertaining  to 
politics  and  religion,'  must  afford  but  a  very  meagre  diet  to  the 
young  people  of  St.  Louis. 

"  Nor  can  I  imagine  why  you  should,  under  the  circumstances, 
have  wished  me  to  visit  you.  If  I  have  ever  been  of  any  service 
to  my  fellow-men,  it  has  been  because  I  never  would  eschew  any 
topic  which  I  thought  it  needful  for  them  to  hear.  Nor  have  I 
ever  allowed  myself  to  stand  on  any  platform  where  I  could  not 
follow  my  own  judgment  as  to  what  should  be  said  with  the  most 
unlimited  freedom.  And  it  is  too  late  in  my  life  for  me  to  yield 
up  my  sense  of  self-respect  and  come  under  a  censorship. 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  taken  seriously  a  matter  wmich,  perhaps, 
you  meant  only  as  a  pleasant  jest.  For,  on  reading  your  letter 
again,    I   hardly  repress   the  conviction   that   you    deemed    it    a 


REV.  HENRY  HARD  BEECHER. 


391 


pk-asant  jest  to  ask  me  to  come  all  the  way  to  St.  Louis  to  give 
lectures,  under  an  implied  agreement  that  I  should  '  eschew  all 
matters  pertaining  to  politics  and  religion  ! '  " 

When  the  title  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  offered  him  he  de- 
clined it,  as  follows  : 

"  PEEKSKILL,  August  21,  i860. 
"  To  President  and  Board  of  Trustees  of  Amherst  College  : 

"GENTLEMEN:  I  have  been  duly  notified  that  at  the  last 
meeting  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  the  title  of  D.D.  was  conferred 
upon  me.  It  would  certainly  give  me  pleasure  should  any  re- 
spectable institution  bear  such  a  testimony  of  good  will,  but  that 
Amherst  College,  my  own  mother,  should  so  kindly  remember  a 
son  is  a  peculiar  gratification.  But  all  the  use  of  such  a  title 
ends  with  the  public  expression.  If  the  wish  to  confer  it  be  ac- 
cepted, for  the  rest  it  would  be  but  an  encumbrance  and  furnish 
an  address  by  no  means  agreeable  to  my  taste.  I  greatly  prefer 
the  simplicity  of  that  name  which  my  mother  uttered  over  me  in 
the  holy  hour  of  infant  consecration  and  baptism. 

u  May  I  be  permitted,  without  seeming  to  undervalue  your 
kindness  or  disesteeming  the  honor  meant,  to  return  it  to  your 
hands,  that  I  may  to  the  end  of  my  life  be,  as  thus  far  I  have 
been,  simply  Henry  Ward  Beecher." 

One  of  the  peculiar  features  of  Mr.  Beecher's  work  in  those 
days  of  1861-63  was  the  revival  interest  that  continued,  with  vari- 
ations of  intensity,  it  is  true,  but  with  no  substantial  interruption, 
for  years.  The  revival  of  1858  had  not  entirely  ceased  at  that 
time,  and  although  those  days  of  war,  especially  since  he  gave 
himself  so  intensely  to  public  matters,  would  naturally  be  regarded 
as  unfavorable  to  any  marked  religious  interest,  yet  it  continued 
notwithstanding,  as  is  shown  by  the  numbers  that  constantly 
sought  admission  to  the  church  upon  profession  of  faith.  This 
was  owing,  we  doubt  not,  to  the  perfect  conviction  of  Mr.  Beech- 
er that  the  whole  work  of  that  time  was  the  Lord's,  and  to  his 
entering  upon  it  with  such  consecration  that  he  was  continually 
shielded  and  refreshed  by  experiences  of  the  divine  presence. 
This  gave  a  deep  practical  spirituality  to  his  preaching,  which 
was  appropriated  and  reflected  by  his  church,  making  the  Gospel 
attractive,  in  those  days  of  trouble,  as  never  before.  Men  turned 
to  the  refuge  which   they   saw   he  had  found,   and  which,  with 


392  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

deepest  sympathy  and  with  abundant  hopefulness,  he  was  point- 
ing out  to  them.  He  himself  says  :  "  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose 
that  the  preoccupation  of  the  public  mind  with  the  war,  and  the 
great  excitements  which  are  fed  by  the  ever-changing  rumors 
and  news,  are  unfavorable  to  the  work  of  a  true  minister  of  the 
Gospel." 

The  continued  ingathering  into  Plymouth  Church  during  all 
those  years  of  the  war  was  something  almost  phenomenal.  One 
marked  occasion,  the  May  communion  of  1862,  was  described  in 
a  newspaper  of  that  day  :  "  Every  part  of  the  house  was  densely 
packed.  The  platform  and  desk  were  decorated  with  vases  of 
flowers,  while  banks  of  azaleas,  magnolias,  carnations,  fuchsias, 
white  lilies,  roses,  and  other  plants  in  blossom  reached  from  the 
pulpit  floor  to  the  orchestra.  After  the  usual  exercises  of  sing- 
ing, reading,  and  prayer,  Mr.  Beecher  read  a  list  of  about  eighty 
names  of  persons  who  were  to  unite  with  the  church.  Many  of 
them  were  members  of  the  Sabbath-schools  and  Bible-classes. 
Some  were  persons  of  middle  age  ;  a  few  were  persons  of  ad- 
vanced years.  After  a  brief  address  Mr.  Beecher  read  the 
articles  of  faith,  to  which  the  parties  gave  their  assent.  The  or- 
dinance of  baptism  was  then  administered  to  those  who  had 
never  before  received  it ;  after  which  the  members  of  the  church 
arose  and  received  the  new  members  into  full  and  cordial  com- 
munion. Mr.  Beecher  took  his  text  from  John  x.  3,  4.  There 
had  been  provided  memorial  bouquets  for  each  new  communi- 
cant, which  were  distributed  at  the  close  of  the  services." 

These  floral  decorations  may  almost  be  said  to  have  been 
introduced  by  Plymouth  Church,  and  were  justified  by  Mr.  Beech- 
er upon  the  highest  moral  and  religious  grounds.  He  says  of 
"  Flowers  in  Church  "  : 

"  They  are  simply  the  signs  of  gladness.  They  are  offerings 
of  joyful  hearts  to  God. 

"  Flowers  are  not  of  man.  They  are  divine.  Man  can,  by 
culture,  develop  all  that  God  has  hidden  in  them,  but  can  add 
nothing  to  them,  nor  can  he  invent  or  build  them. 

"  God  has  made  flowers  for  everybody.  They  are  next  in 
abundance  to  the  great  elements — air,  light,  water.  The  poorest 
man  has  a  roadside  flower-garden.  No  mission-church  is  so  poor 
that  it  cannot  afford  wild  flowers  upon  the  altar  and  a  few  as- 
sorted leaves  in  the  windows.     How  beautifully  would  woman's 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  393 

hand  light  up  the  dreary  plaster  wall  and  frigid  seats  ol  many 
a  church  room,  it'  permitted  to  garnish  them  with  these  field- 
thoughts  of  God  ! 

"  The  effect  upon  children  is  well  worth  our  thought  To 
teach  a  child  to  love  flowers  is  to  give  him  riches  that  no  bank- 
ruptcy can  reach.  This  is  the  wisdom  of  finding  our  pleasures, 
not  in  conventional  arrangements,  but  in  sympathy  with  nature, 
which  never  is  confiscated,  or  goes  out  of  fashion,  or  becomes  old 
and  exhausted.  There  is  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  every 
day,  as  if  suggesting  that  grand  and  final  event  of  prophecy. 

,k  The  use  of  [lowers  on  social  and  religious  occasions  soon 
gives  to  them  meanings  which  they  had  not  to  us  before.  We 
read  nature  more  thoughtfully  and  lovingly. 

"  Weeds  change  to  flowers.  The  moment  a  plant  inspires  in- 
telligent emotion  in  us  it  ceases  to  be  a  weed  and  becomes  a 
flower.  The  natural  world  is  not  any  longer  godless  or  com- 
mercial and  mechanical.     It  has  a  moral  power. 

"  At  first  many  will  shrink  at  seeing  flowers  upon  the  speak- 
er's desk  or  on  the  pulpit.  But  why  ?  Is  the  place  too  holy  ? 
But  is  it  holier  than  God?  And  are  not  flowers  His  peculiar 
workmanship  ?  If  God  deemed  it  suitable  to  His  dignity  and 
glory  to  occupy  His  mind  with  making  and  preserving  such 
innumerable  flowers,  are  we  wise  in  disdaining  them  or  consid- 
ering the  place  too  sacred  for  God's  favorites?  Do  men  reflect 
that  God  has  been  pleased  to  name  Himself  from  flowers  ? 
4 1  am  the  Rose  of  Sharon  and  the  Lily  of  the    Valley.'  " 

In  line  with  this  are  his  views  upon  "  Christian  Liberty  in  the 
Use  of  the  Beautiful  "  : 

"  I  cannot  but  think  Christian  men  have  not  only  a  right  of 
enjoyment  in  the  beautiful,  but  a  duty,  in  some  measure,  of  pro- 
ducing it,  or  propagating  it,  or  diffusing  it  abroad  through  the 
community. 

11  But  in  all  your  labors  for  the  beautiful,  remember  that  its 
mission  is  not  of  corruption,  nor  of  pride,  nor  of  selfishness,  but 
of  benevolence  !  And  as  God  hath  created  beauty,  not  for  a  few, 
but  hath  furnished  it  for  the  whole  earth,  multiplying  it  until,  like 
drops  of  water  and  particles  of  air,  it  abounds  for  every  living 
thing,  and  in  measure  far  transcending  human  want,  until  the 
world  is  a  running-over  cup,  so  let  thine  heart  understand  both 
the  glory  of  God's   beauty  and  the  generosity  of  its  distribution. 


394  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

So  living,  life  shall  be  a  glory,  and  death  a  passing  from  glory  to 
glory." 

If  we  have  supposed  that  his  love  for  nature  was  intuitive  or 
came  to  its  fulness  without  effort  or  study,  the  following  letter 
will  correct  that  impression  : 

"  We  are  performing  not  alone  a  work  of  love  in  commending 
Ruskin,  but  paying  a  small  part  of  a  debt  that  can  never  be  dis- 
charged. We  are  more  indebted  to  him  for  the  blessings  of 
sight  than  to  all  other  men.  We  were,  in  respect  to  nature,  of  the 
number  of  those  who,  having  eyes,  saw  not;  and  ears,  heard  not. 
He  taught  us  what  to  see  and  how  to  see.  Thousands  of  golden 
hours  and  materials  both  for  self-enjoyment  and  the  instruction 
of  others,  enough  to  fill  up  our  whole  life,  we  owe  to  the  spirit 
excited  in  us  by  the  reading  of  Ruskin's  early  works. 

"  The  sky,  the  earth,  and  the  waters  are  no  longer  what  they 
were  to  us. 

"We  have  learned  a  language  and  come  to  a  sympathy  in 
them  more  through  the  instrumentality  of  Ruskin's  works  than 
by  all  other  instrumentalities  on  earth,  excepting  always  the 
nature  which  my  mother  gave  me — sainted  be  her  name  ! " 

We  have  again  come  to  the  point,  1863,  which  we  once  before 
reached  in  this  biography,  but  this  time  upon  entirely  different 
lines.  In  our  first  examination,  for  the  sake  of  unity  of  impres- 
sion, we  confined  ourselves  to  the  events  of  the  great  anti-slavery 
conflict.  In  this  which  we  have  just  completed  we  have  sketch- 
ed the  outline  of  other  labors  and  the  events  of  his  home  life 
during  this  period.  Xo  one,  we  suspect,  reading  the  first  record, 
the  record  of  strife  and  battle,  would  conceive  it  possible  that 
a  life  so  full  of  all  manner  of  peaceful  pursuits  and  home  labors 
was  being  lived  ;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  would  any  one  going 
over  his  work  of  preaching,  lecturing,  writing  helpful  Star  articles 
upon  all  manner  of  common  subjects,  imagine  that  he  had  the 
time  or  the  spirit  for  the  former  work.  But,  in  fact,  in  his 
case  they  were  each  the  necessary  complement  of  the  other. 

We  have  seen  how,  at  the  West  in  the  midst  of  continued  re- 
vival efforts,  he  took  up  the  study  of  landscape-gardening  as  an 
alterative.  This  was  an  illustration  of  his  habit  through  life. 
In  the  midst  of  the  most  exciting  events  he  would  escape  and  go 
apart  from  them  all,  if  possible,  to  some  point  where  he  could 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER. 


395 


look  out  upon  the  landscape  or  up  to  the  dear  heavens.  Such 
places  at  such  times  seemed  to  become  Mountains  of  Transfigura- 
tion, where  he  would  meet  the  Master  ami  be  refreshed  by  His 

presence,  and  whence  returning  lie  would  bring  back  a  store  of 
beautiful  experiences  that  enabled  him  to  give  cheer  and  inspira- 
tion to  his  fellow-toilers,  who  had  not,  perhaps,  noted  his  absence 
from  their  side.  Or  he  would  escape  to  some  quiet  nook  and 
hold  converse  with  birds  and  flowers,  delight  himself  in  quaint 
and  pleasant  fancies,  look  at  life  from  a  new  standpoint,  until  he 
was  able  again  to  take  up  the  burden  without  weariness  ;  or  he 
would  sit  down  with  his  boxes  of  seeds  or  catalogues  of  plants, 
and  lose  himself  in  their  imagined  growth  and  beauty  ;  or,  draw- 
ing from  his  pocket  some  one  of  the  precious  stones  he  always 
carried  with  him,  gather  rest  and  inspiration  as  he  watched  its 
changing  hues. 

In  this  way  he  was  enabled  to  carry  on  the  most  various  and 
exhaustive  labors,  and  at  the  same  time  to  preserve  that  mental 
health  and  good  cheer  for  which  he  was  remarkable. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Visit  to  England  in  1863 — The  Need  of  Rest— Condition  of  Affairs  at 
Home — Arrival  at  Liverpool — Refusal  to  Speak — Visit  to  the  Continent 
— Reception  by  the  King  of  Belgium — Civil  War  Discussed — News  of 
Victories — Return  to  England. 

THE  spring  of  1863  found  Mr.  Beecher  thoroughly  exhaust- 
ed and  greatly  in  need  of  both  mental  and  physical  rest. 
The  past  twelve  years  had  been  a  season  of  unremitting 
care  and  toil.  In  addition  to  the  regular  duties  of  his  new  and 
growing  church,  and  the  active  revival  work  carried  on  at  this 
period,  which  were  quite  enough  to  task  the  energies  of  any  one 
less  fortunately  endowed  with  mental  and  vital  energy,  he  had 
taken  a  very  active  part  in  the  anti-slavery  agitation,  and  from  the 
pulpit,  the  lecture  platform,  and  the  columns  of  the  Indepe?ident 
kept  up  a  constant  fire  upon  this  national  evil.  In  1856,  as  we 
have  seen,  he  had  thrown  himself  heart  and  soul  into  the  Fremont 
campaign,  well-nigh  destroying  his  health.  From  i860  he  had 
been  laboring,  without  rest,  to  uphold  the  government,  to  rouse 
and  maintain  the  patriotic  confidence  of  the  North,  and  through 
all  of  this  time  was  a  contributor  to  the  New  York  Independent, 
and  since  186 1  its  editor-in-chief.  Fagged  out  and  despondent 
from  exhaustion,  rest  was  imperative. 

His  church,  with  that  generous  love  which  has  always  charac- 
terized it,  voted  him  a  four  months'  leave  of  absence  with  ex- 
penses paid. 

In  company  with  Dr.  John  Raymond,  then  the  president  of 
Vassar  College,  a  warm  personal  friend,  he  set  sail  early  in 
June  for  a  holiday,  making  his  second  trip  across  the  water. 

Fortunately  we  are  able  to  give  almost  wholly  in  his  own 
words  the  history  of  this  trip  : 

"I  left  New  York  in  June,  1863,  for  a  tour  through  Europe 
during  the  summer  vacation.  I  was  not  requested,  either  by- 
President  Lincoln  nor  by  any  member  of  the  Cabinet,  to  act  in 
behalf  of  this  government ;  it  was  purely  a  personal  arrangement. 

396 


RE  I '.  HENR  Y  U  A  RD  BEECH  ER.  397 

The  government  took  no  stock  in  me  at  that  time.  Seward  was 
in  the  ascendency,  and,  as  I  had  been  pounding  Lincoln  during 
the  early  years  of  the  war,  1  don't  believe  there  was  a  man  in 
Washington,  excepting  perhaps  Mr.  Chase,  who  would  have 
trusted  me  with  anything  ;  at  any  rate,  1  went  on  my  own  respon- 
sibility, with  no  one  behind  me  except  my  church.  They  told 
me  they  would  pay  my  expenses  and  sent  me  oil.  I  went  away 
wholly  lor  the  sake  of  rest  and  recuperation.  I  went  simply  as  a 
private  citizen,  and  I  went  with  a  determination  not  to  speak  in 
Great  Britain. 

"  It  was  perhaps  the  dreariest  period  in  the  whole  war.  One 
after  another  of  our  generals  had  been  sent  to  school  in  the  field 
to  learn  the  art  of  generalship.  The  task  was  too  large  for  most 
of  them,  and  they  took  a  secondary  rank.  At  that  time,  up  to 
the  date  of  my  departure,  we  had  made  a  stand  and  maintained 
it,  but  had  gained  but  very  little.  The  most  defensible  country, 
perhaps,  on  earth  is  our  own  in  its  southern  portion  ;  and  the  line 
that  ran  two  thousand  miles  of  active  warfare  through  our  mid- 
dle had  been  so  fortified,  and  was  defended  with  such  skill  and 
unquestionable  bravery,  that  our  forces  had  not  been  able  to 
push  back  the  line  of  rebellion  much,  and  there  had  been  no- 
thing to  encourage  the  hearts  of  our  people  beyond  their  faith — 
for  we  lived  by  faith  and  not  by  sight  in  those  days. 

"  I  had  not,  except  in  times  of  sickness,  when  the  whole  tone 
of  my  nervous  system  was  lowered,  had  an  hour  of  doubt.  I  was 
sure  of  victory.  There  were  some  sick  hours  in  which  I  remem- 
ber distinctly  thinking,  '  One  nation  is  ground  to  make  soil  for 
another,  and  it  may  be  that  this  nation  will  be  ground  up  in 
order  that  another  one  may  grow  up  on  its  ruins  '  ;  but  ordinarily 
I  was  full  of  courage  and  hope,  not  unfounded  I  think  now  in 
review  ;  and  it  stood  me  in  good  stead  abroad. 

"  At  that  time  Grant  had  not  emerged.  McClellan  had,  and 
had  retired  again.  Burnside  had  briefly  shown  that  he  was  too 
modest  and  not  strong  enough  to  take  McClellan's  place. 
Hooker,  who  had  lost  his  head  in  the  great  battle  which  he 
fought,  was  at  the  head  of  affairs,  and  we  were  on  the  eve  of  one 
more  change — a  change  which  has  surrounded  the  name  of 
Meade  with  lustre.  Grant  was  at  the  time  besieging  Vicksburg. 
Lee  had  not  yet  ventured  into  Pennsylvania,  out  of  which  he 
never  ought  to  have  been  permitted  to  go. 


398  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

M  It  was  at  about  that  stage  of  things  that  I  left.  The  politi- 
cal condition  of  the  country,  and  also  its  civic  and  secular  con- 
dition, will  justify  a  word  or  two.  There  was  a  great  party  of 
the  Union,  made  up  of  men  indifferently  from  all  foregoing  par- 
ties. Old  lines  were  effaced,  old  questions  sank  to  the  bottom, 
and  the  one  question  that  united  the  strangest  elements,  discor- 
dant in  every  other  respect,  was  the  wise  determination  to  main- 
tain intact  the  union  of  this  whole  country.  That  formed  the 
band  and  belt  that  gave  unity  to  the  party  of  war.  The  great 
Democratic  party  was  divided  into  three  ranks.  The  largest 
part,  and  the  noblest,  joined  themselves  to  the  party  of  the 
Union  ;  and  better  men  never  came  from  any  party  than  those 
that  formed  under  our  banner,  bearing  briefly  and  for  a  time  the 
name  of  Republicans,  but  very  largely  going  back  again,  after  the 
war  was  over,  to  the  Democratic  party.  There  was  a  second  di- 
vision of  lukewarm  Unionists  in  the  Democratic  party,  that  were 
always  hoping  the  war  would  be  compromised — men  of  great 
patriotism,  who  could  not  forbear  to  ask  :  '  What  will  be  my 
position  politically  when  we  shall  have  secured  peace  again  ? ' 
They  were  for  compromise  and  for  easy  adjustment. 

"  Now,  war  is  good  for  nothing  if  it  is  not  intense  and  cruel. 
It  means  organized  force  ;  and  it  is  nonsense  to  go  into  the  field 
with  anything  else  except  guns  in  your  hands  and  swords  at  your 
side.  The  attempt  so  to  fight,  as  in  the  earlier  periods  of  our 
struggle,  as  not  to  hurt  anybody,  is  most  disastrous,  whether  in 
prudence  or  in  civil  successes.  The  South  never  did  make  war 
except  to  hurt  somebody  ;  and  in  the  earlier  day  the  vehemence, 
the  courage,  and  the  convictions  which  they  brought  into  the 
field,  made  them  more  than  a  match  for  our  Northern  soldiers. 
Very  largely  our  generals  had  anticipations  of  Congress,  or  the 
Presidency,  or  what  not,  before  them  ;  and  such  political  antici- 
pations never  whet  anybody's  sword. 

"  There  was  a  third  section,  and  that  was  the  least — those  that 
were  directly  in  league  with  the  Southern  and  slavery  element.  Of 
them  it  is  not  necessary  that  anything  should  be  said.  They  are 
wiped  out,  and  that  is  fulfilled  in  regard  to  them  which  the 
Scriptures  hath  spoken  :  '  The  name  of  the  wicked  shall  rot.' 

"  In  that  divided  state  Lincoln  was  under  great  discourage- 
ments, yet  maintaining  invincible  his  purpose,  without  com- 
promise,  to  destroy  all  oppositions   to   this  Union.     Meanwhile 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER*  399 

ire  were  maintaining  a  blockade  of  about  three  thousand  miles — 
an  unexampled  blockade.      We  had   to  extemporize  a  navy,  a 
shall  again   if  we  have  any  war.     We  are  always  wise  afterward. 

For  the  sake  of  economy  we  are  the  most  wasteful  of  all  nations, 
without  foresight  in  such  matters  ;  too  confiding.  There  is  not  a 
ship  in  the  American  navy  to-day  that  could  not  be  blown  out  of 
the  water  in  a  ten  minutes'  conflict  with  the  best-armored  ships 
nope;  and  Congress,  that  has  no  end  of  money  for  votes, 
through  pensions  and  various  other  channels  of  distributing, 
cannot  be  persuaded  to  do  anything  for  stability  and  inexorable 
defence  against  foreign  invasion  and  warfare. 

"  We  had  at  that  time  converted  almost  every  sea-going  craft 
into  a  man-of-war  ;  and  this  extended  blockade  was  in  the  main 
well  served.  Europe  stood  watching  as  a  vulture  does  to  see 
the  sick  lamb  or  kine  stagger  to  fall,  and  from  her  dried  branch 
of  observation  she  was  ready  to  plunge  down.  Napoleon  did. 
He  already  had  sent  French  armies  into  Mexico.  That  was  a 
mere  preface.  Mexico  was  not  his  final  object.  The  recovering 
again  of  territory  that  once  had  belonged  to  France  lay  in  the 
achievements  or  the  expectations  of  this  weak  and  wicked  poten- 
tate in  the  future. 

"  In  this  condition  of  things  we  were  hovering  on  the  very- 
edge  of  intervention.  It  was  well  known  to  those  acquainted 
with  the  condition  of  affairs  in  other  lands  that  Napoleon  was 
disposed  by  every  art  and  intrigue  to  persuade  the  government 
of  Great  Britain  to  interpose,  to  break  the  blockade,  and  to  give 
its  moral  support  to  the  rebellion  of  the  South. 

"  I  found  in  England  the  utmost  scepticism  prevailing  as  to 
our  success,  and  an  exaggerated  conception  of  the  endurance 
and  courage  of  the  South  ;  and  no  sentence  wras  more  frequently 
uttered  in  my  hearing  than  this,  '  You  will  never  subdue  the 
South '  ;  to  which  I  invariably  replied,  '  We  shall  subdue  the 
South.' 

"  I  found  that,  with  a  few  noble  exceptions — Mr.  John  Bright, 
Richard  Cobden,  Mr.  Forster,  and  such  like — that  the  statesmen 
of  Great  Britain  were  either  lukewarm  or  in  avowed  sympathy 
with  the  South.  The  middle-class  and  laboring  people  of  Great 
Britain  were  in  sympathy,  on  the  whole,  with  the  North  ;  but 
they  had  no  votes.  As  a  general  thing,  the  officeholders  under 
the  government,  the  rich  families,  the  manufacturing   interests, 


400  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

the  educated  and  professional  men  of  Great  Britain,  believed  that 
our  Union  had  been  or  would  soon  be  dissolved.  Some  one  said 
to  me  at  that  time,  'All  men  who  ride  in  first-class  cars,  and  put 
up  at  first-class  hotels,  and  live  upon  intellectual  professions,  to- 
gether with  most  of  the  clergymen,  even  of  the  dissenting  bodies 
of  England,  are  adverse  to  the  Northern  cause.' 

"  The  conduct  of  the  laboring  classes  in  Great  Britain  was 
admirable.  While  they  were  on  the  verge  of  starvation  in  the 
cotton  districts,  they  patiently  endured  their  sufferings  without 
retracting  their  sympathy  for  the  Northern  cause.  As  a  body, 
the  Quakers,  whose  testimony  against  slavery  had  been  continu- 
ous and  unswerving,  were  in  sympathy  with  the  North.  The 
Congregational  churches  of  Great  Britain,  with  few  exceptions, 
were  adverse  to  the  North.  The  Congregational  churches  of 
Wales  were  almost  wholly  in  sympathy  with  the  North. 

"  All  the  world  looked  upon  America  as  about  to  be  split  asun- 
der. Here  and  there  was  a  faithful  witness  and  a  faithful  friend. 
The  civilized  nations  of  Europe  looked  with  varying  emotions  upon 
our  conflict,  but  agreed  generally  that  it  was  an  impossible  task 
that  the  North  had  undertaken  ;  and  everywhere  I  felt  the  numb- 
ness that  that  produced. 

"  It  was  at  just  that  period  that  I  left  our  shores  and  was  in 
Great  Britain." 

From  his  letters  home  we  have  gathered  something  of  an  out- 
line of  his  experience  and  first  impressions: 

"  I  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Mersey,  seven  miles  from  Liver- 
pool, on  Wednesday  night.  The  tide  would  not  let  us  across  till 
five  the  next  morning.  .  .  .  Duncan  was  on  the  tug  when  we 
reached  the  city — for  there  are  no  wharves  at  Liverpool,  and  we 
lay  in  the  middle  of  the  stream  and  landed  passengers  by  means 
of  a  little  steam-tug.  .  .  .  Before  leaving  the  boat  a  Mr.  Estcourt, 
of  Manchester,  was  at  hand  to  invite  me  to  have  a  reception 
and  speech  at  Manchester.  The  same  happened  for  Liverpool 
within  a  few  hours,  and  letters  from  London,  from  two  committees, 
came  within  a  day,  soliciting  the  same.  I  declined  them  all  and 
declared  my  intention  not  to  speak  anywhere  at  present,  and  until 
I  had  had  time  to  form  some  judgment  of  things.  I  find  that  all 
our  American  friends  at  Liverpool  approve  highly  of  my  decision. 
And  even  those  who  most  solicited  speeches  admit  that  they 
think  my  decision  the  wiser  one.     I  will  not  trouble  you  with  any 


REV.  J/AWA'V  WARD  BEECHER,  40 1 

description  oi  the  state  of  the  English  mind  toward  our  country. 
We  have  nothing  to  hope  from  it  when  it  might  be  of  use  to  us, 
and  we  shall  not  by  and  by  care  a  pin  whether  they  think  ill  or 
well."  After  a  week's  run  in  the  country  he  returned  to  Liver- 
pool and  "went  to  meet  some  friends  at  the  parlor  oi  a  store. 
The  great  stores  here  have  parlors,  in  which  the  heads  of  depart- 
ments dine  every  day.  Gave  them  a  plain  talk  about  America. 
At  the  end,  as  we  got  familiar,  they  confessed  that  America  had 
sufficient  reason  for  her  complaints  against  Great  Britain." 

Writing  from  London  a  week  later  : 

"  Every  man  I  meet  who  is  on  our  side  commends  my  deter- 
mination to  keep  quiet  for  the  present.  I  do  not  mean  in  preach- 
ing, but  public  addresses  and  public  receptions.  There  is  but 
little  favor  for  the  North.  Whatever  may  be  said,  a  narrow  but 
intense  jealousy  is   felt,  and  fear  of  future  rivalry.  .  .  . 

u  London,  July  7. — On  Monday  of  this  week  (yesterday)  I  met 
a  circle  of  temperance  men  at  a  breakfast.  It  was  private  in 
this,  that  no  reports  were  to  be  made  or  published.  I  gave 
them  a  good  talk  on  our  affairs.  .  .  .  To-day  a  like  meeting 
with  a  section  of  anti-slavery  men." 

He  attended  the  meeting.  Of  course  he  was  expected  to 
make  some  remarks,  and  he  did.  He  says,  speaking  of  this 
incident  :  "  Several  speeches  had  been  made  wrhen  I  was  called 
upon,  and  made  a  statement  expressing  my  indignation  at  the 
position  of  the  Congregational  clergy  of  England  in  view  of  this 
war.  They  were  men  who  were  seeking  to  know  the  signs  of 
the  times,  and  had  as  a  whole  body  gone  wrong  and  had  virtually 
arrayed  themselves  on  the  side  of  slavery  and  against  liberty.  I 
put  my  best  leg  foremost,  and,  although  I  succeeded  in  making  a 
favorable  impression,  I  saw  that  I  was  likely  to  be  regarded  as  an 
enthusiast,  and  so  determined  that  I  should  clinch  the  arguments 
I  had  advanced  with  a  speech  from  a  calm-minded  man,  and  ac- 
cordingly when  I  had  concluded  I  said  :  '  Gentlemen,  Dr.  John 
Raymond,  president  of  Vassar  College,  is  present  and  will  add  a 
few  views  of  his  own.'  He  was  a  cool  man  and  not  easily  ex- 
cited, but  his  sympathies  were  with  the  Union,  and  when  he  had 
kindled  up  to  his  work  I  sat  and  looked  at  him  in  perfect  amaze- 
ment. He  went  at  them  like  a  hundred  earthquakes,  with  a 
whirlwind  thrown  in.  He  made  a  magnificent  speech,  of  such 
towering  indignation  as  I  never  have  heard  before  or  since." 


402  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

The  expectation  that  the  speeches  would  not  be  reported  was 
misplaced  ;  there  appears  to  have  been  "  a  chiel  amang  us  takin' 
notes,"  and  the  substance  of  the  speeches  was  quite  fully  re- 
ported the  next  day. 

Almost  immediately  thereafter  he  crossed  over  to  the  Conti- 
nent, and  did  not  return  to  England  until  the  following  Sep- 
tember. 

He  remained  strongly  disinclined  to  make  any  formal  ad- 
dresses, though  he  had  been  urged  to  speak  in  London,  Liver- 
pool, and  Manchester  on  his  return. 

Writing  from  Switzerland,  July  28,  to  Mrs.  Stowe,  he  refers  to 
the  two  meetings  in  London,  and  his  views  regarding  his  return 
in  the  fall: 

"  My  time  in  London,  where  I  spent  ten  days,  was,  for  the 
last  six  or  eight,  spent  in  meeting  private  circles  of  gentlemen, 
and  talking  to  them  like  a  father.  I  breakfasted  with  almost  a 
hundred  from  the  Temperance  Alliance,  with  seventy-five  of  the 
Congregational  Liberty  Association,  with  forty  or  fifty  at  a  soiree 
at  Mr.  Evans's,  president  of  the  Emancipation  League,  where 
Baptist  Noel  was  the  questioner,  and  I  responded  for  two  hours. 
I  hear  since  that  great  good  was  done,  and  at  the  time  there  was 
elicited  a  great  deal  of  confession  from  many  that  they  had  been 
both  ignorant  and  wrong.  There  was  a  universal  and  vehement 
desire  that  I  should  arrange  to  speak  in  London,  and  elsewhere, 
when  I  return  to  England  in  the  autumn.  If  I  see  the  way 
clear  to  do  so,  these  conferences  will  have  opened  the  door  ef- 
fectually. Meanwhile  I  shall  wait  and  watch  the  development 
of  things.  .  .  .  But  let  me  tell  you  that  the  root  of  all  the  con- 
duct of  England  is  simple  and  absolute  fear,  I  do  not  mean 
fear  of  a  narrow  and  technical  kind.  But  the  shadow  that  the 
future  of  our  nation  already  casts  is  so  vast  that  they  foresee 
they  are  falling  into  the  second  rank — that  the  will  of  the  Re- 
public is  to  be  the  law  of  the  world.  There  is  no  disguising  of 
this  among  Englishmen. 

"  I  was  told  by  Rev.  Henry  Allen,  of  London,  eminent  among 
the  Congregationalists,  that  they  had  long  felt  that  a  time  must 
come  when  England  would  have  to  take  hold  of  us  and  curb 
our  power,  and  that,  now  that  we  were  divided  against  ourselves, 
they  rejoice  to  see  their  work  done  for  them.  The  Duke  of 
Argyle  distinctly  recognized  this  feeling,  not  in  himself  but  in 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  403 

others.  Roebuck  openly  avowed  it  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
The  papers  Oil  all  hands  abused  him  tor  it.  15ut,  in  fact,  it  was 
because    he  spoke   the  truth,  which    they    were   ashamed    to    have 

Spoken  so  boldly  and  openly.  I  met  at  Yungfrau  a  VOUng 
Irishman,  friendly,  who  gave  the  same  view  of  English  feel- 
ing. Indeed,  I  have  searched  into  it  and  am  thoroughly  satis- 
fied that  it  is  mainly  and  deeply  the  dread  of  our  gigantic 
national  development  in  the  future,  that  has  been  coiled  up  as 
the  main-spring  under  all  the  other  reasons,  excuses,  and  pre- 
tendings,  and  that  has,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  moved  the 
whole  mind  of  England.  Against  this  what  will  reasoning  or  ex- 
position avail  ?  Is  there  any  explanation  that  will  make  England 
ready  to  stand  second]  Is  there  any  way  of  stating  our  gigantic 
power  that  would  lead  her  to  rejoice  in  it  ?  I  do  not  propose  to 
pull  wool  over  their  eyes,  nor  to  play  the  sheep  in  any  way.  For 
I  distinctly  see  the  difficulty.  I  know  it  to  be  unremovable, 
and  all  that  can  be  done  is  to  appeal  to  the  higher  feelings  of  the 
Christian  part  of  England,  that  the  elect  few,  in  both  countries, 
may  hold  fast  the  golden  cords  of  love  till  God  in  His  own  way 
shall  have  settled  the  future." 

As  late  as  August  27  we  find  him  still  in  doubt  as  to  what  he 
will  do  in  England  ;  at  that  date  he  writes  : 

"  When  you  read  this,  therefore,  I  shall  probably  be  in  Lon- 
don. I  cannot  yet  decide  anything  about  my  course  in  England. 
From  a  distance  I  do  not  see  any  occasion  or  necessity  for  my 
squandering  time  there  in  speaking.   .  .  ." 

On  his  way  back  to  England  he  passed  through  Brussels  ; 
while  there  he  paid  his  respects  to  the  United  States  minister, 
Mr.  Sandford.     We  give  his  experience  in  his  own  words  : 

"  In  drawing  near  to  England  I  went  to  Brussels,  and  at  a 
dinner  by  our  American  minister  there,  found  him  very  much 
wavering  as  to  our  final  success.  I  expressed  such  sentiments, 
and  expressed  them  so  firmly,  as  to  lead  him  to  wish  that  I 
should  see  King  Leopold  of  Belgium,  who  was  considered  the 
wisest  sovereign  in  Europe,  and  to  whom  Queen  Victoria  and 
others  were  accustomed  to  refer  many  questions  for  judgment  or 
arbitration. 

"  For  the  first  and  only  time  in  my  life  I  prepared  myself  for 
the  ordeal.  But  oh !  consider  it,  ye  that  dwell  at  home,  ye 
that  sit  at  ease  among  flowers  and  all  pleasant   things — consider 


404  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

my  sufferings  in  a  fashionable  hat,  a.  white  cravat,  and  a  pair  of 
white  gloves!  Yes,  it  was  even  so  !  I  reluctated,  but  Sandford 
plead;  and  as  it  was  more  for  his  sake  than  my  own  that  I  con- 
sented to  the  interview  at  all,  and  also  because  the  king  was  very 
influential  with  all  the  sovereigns  of  Europe,  and  especially  with 
Victoria,  and  was  pleased  with  attentions  from  Americans,  I  took 
to  myself  a  hat,  cravat,  and  gloves,  and  in  an  open  barouche 
with  two  white  horses,  and  Mr.  Simmonds  sitting  by  the  side 
of  the  driver,  large  as  life,  and  most  happy  to  be  the  courier  of 
a  party  called  on  in  all  the  capitals  by  American  ministers  and 
consuls,  and  now  going  actually  to  see  the  king  !  Happy,  hap- 
py Simmonds  !  The  crowd  stared  ;  the  people  gave  way  right 
and  left ;  the  royal  guard  at  the  Governor's  House  opened  ;  we 
dismounted  just  at  eleven  (hat,  cravat,  gloves,  and  all).  A  golden- 
laced  official  received  us  at  the  lower  door  and  jabbered  French 
in  our  faces,  which  we  answered  by  making  for  the  stairs  beyond 
him.  At  the  top  two  officers,  much  dressed,  bowed  and  seemed 
to  be  expecting  us,  showing  us  toward  a  pair  of  folding-doors 
which,  opening  into  the  ante-room;  revealed  to  us  an  aide-de- 
camp in  waiting,  who  took  my  card,  walked  softly  to  the  next 
door,  communed  with  some  one  within,  returned,  and  said  that 
in  a  moment  the  king  would  receive  us. 

"  In  a  moment  the  door  opened,  a  servant  beckoned  us,  and 
we  entered.  A  tall  man  in  full  military  uniform,  blue,  with 
eleven  orders,  crosses,  etc.,  on  his  left  breast,  with  hair  black 
(not  his  own),  of  a  face  quite  reverend,  long,  thin,  somewhat 
corrugated,  came  towards  us  graciously  and  paternally,  bowed 
gently,  and  began  a  conversation  of  our  travels,  of  Europe,  of 
America  a  little.  Well,  it  was  my  duty,  of  course,  always  to  ad- 
dress him  as  '  Sire,'  but  I  generally  managed  to  call  him  '  Sir  ' 
with  a  hasty  correction  to  *  Sire.' 

"After  some  conversation,  in  which  he  plainly  intimated  to 
me  that  he  would  rejoice  in  bringing  us  to  terms  and  peace 
again,  all  the  while  intimating  that  the  South  could  not  be  over- 
come, and  that  it  would  be  very  wise  for  us  to  make  a  compro- 
mise, and  that  he  would  be  entirely  willing  to  render  service  in 
that  direction,  I  said  to  him:  *  Your  majesty' — I  got  it  out  once 
or  twice  right — '  if  there  were  any  ruling  sovereign  in  Europe  to 
whom  more  than  to  another  we  should  be  glad  to  refer  this  ques- 
tion, it  would  be  to  the  king  of  Belgium,  a  judge  among  nations 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECH  EK.  405 

and  adviser  among  kings  ;  but  we  do  not  propose  to  refer  it  to 
any  one.  We  are  going  to  fight  it  out  ourselves  ;  the  strongest 
will  win  in  our  conflict,  and  so  it  must  be  settled.' 

"  Turning  from  that,  he  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  sending 
Maximilian  to  Mexico — for  at  that  time  he  had  not  been  sent  to 
be  the  emperor  of  this  new  nation  the  Latins  had  established 
there  ;  and,  without  suitable  diplomacy,  I  said  to  him  :  '  Your 
majesty,  any  man  that  wants  to  sit  upon  a  throne  in  Mexico,  I 
would  advise  to  try  Vesuvius  first ;  if  he  can  sit  there  for  a  while, 
then  he  might  go  and  try  it  in  Mexico.' 

44  This  very  soon  brought  our  conversation  to  a  close.  He 
bowed,  we  bowed.  He  stepped  back  a  step,  we  two,  and,  repeat- 
ing the  operation,  we  were  soon  at  the  door  and  out  of  it." 

The  next  day  finds  Mr.  Beecher  at  London.  But  a  short  time 
before,  and  while  in  Paris,  an  event  occurred  that  had  a  marked 
effect  upon  his  subsequent  course  in  England  and  the  results 
which  he  achieved.  The  news  came  to  him  of  the  fall  of  Vicks- 
burg  and  the  repulse  of  Lee  at  Gettysburg  : 

"  Such  a  revulsion  of  feeling  as  I  experienced  myself,  and 
such  a  revulsion  and  intoning  as  all  patriotic  Americans  expe- 
rienced (for  all  Americans  were  not  patriotic  ;  very  largely  they 
were  commercial  cowards),  from  those  tidings,  one  can  scarcely 
imagine  who  was  not  there  to  see.  At  this  time  I  was  staying  in 
Paris  at  the  Grand  Hotel.  It  was  on  a  radiant  Sunday,  as  I 
wended  my  way  from  the  hotel  to  the  church,  that  the  news  came 
of  the  surrender  of  Vicksburg.  No  words  can  tell  the  buoy- 
ancy, the  awful  sense  of  gladness  that  I  had.  I  went  into  the 
house  of  God  and  sat  down  in  the  pew  of  our  minister  to  France, 
Mr.  Dayton.  By  my  side  sat  his  daughter.  In  a  pause  in  the 
service  I  turned  to  Miss  Dayton  and  asked,  '  Have  you  heard  the 
news  ? '  '  No,'  said  she,  looking  earnestly  at  me.  '  Vicksburg 
has  fallen!'  i  Is  it  true  V  'Yes,  be  sure.'  She  answered  me  not 
a  word,  but  turning  to  her  companion,  another  young  lady,  she 
whispered  it  to  her,  and  both  sat  still  as  statues.  The  hymn 
was  given  out,  the  music  sounded,  and  she  began  to  sing  ;  but  no 
sooner  had  she  opened  her  lips  than,  in  a  flood  of  tears,  she 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  wept  for  gladness  and  triumph. 
It  overwhelmed  her,  and  it  overwhelmed  me  too.  And  before 
the  sun  went  down,  yea,  before  the  sun  was  at  noon,  the  other 
tidings  came  of  the  victory  at  Gettysburg  ;  and  then  my  cup  ran 


406  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

over.  No  man  can  tell  how  victoriously  I  walked.  In  the  ample 
court  of  the  Grand  Hotel  there  usually  gathered  a  very  large 
company  of  Southern  men,  to  whom  my  name  was  not  savory; 
and  day  after  day,  as  I  went  out,  they  were  wont  to  collect  in  one 
corner,  and  with  sneers  and  undisguised  attempts  at  insult  they 
met  me  as  I  came  in  and  went  out,  even  sending  contemptible 
messages  to  me  by  the  servants  (which  I  never  received,  being 
intercepted  at  the  office,  although  I  heard  of  them  afterwards). 
But  on  that  day  when  I  heard  that  Lee  had  been  driven  out 
of  Pennsylvania  and  that  Vicksburg  had  surrendered  to  Grant,  I 
put  on  my  best  coat,  walked  down -stairs  and  out  into  that  court 
to  see  how  it  fared  with  my  brethren  of  the  South;  but,  alas! 
they  were  not  there,  not  one  of  them.  They,  too,  had  heard 
something  ! 

"  The  effect  which  these  tidings  produced  throughout  Great 
Britain  was  immense.  Before  this  no  avowed  friend  of  the  North 
could  go  through  the  Exchange  in  Liverpool  without  being 
looked  at  and  watched,  largely  as  one  would  look  at  a  bear  es- 
caped from  a  menagerie.  My  friend  Charles  Duncan  had 
scarcely  been  able  to  transact  business  without  being  insulted  at 
every  step  ;  when  the  good  news  came  he  went  down  into  the 
Exchange  to  look  into  the  faces  of  these  men  that  had  been 
so  insulting,  but  there  was  not  a  man  in  the  whole  Exchange  who 
had  not  been  on  our  side  from  the  very  beginning,  and  who  had 
not  always  believed  in  us,  in  our  cause,  and  in  our  final  victory  ! 
How  wonderful  are  the  workings  of  Providence  ! 

"  On  returning  to  England  representations  were  made  to  me 
which  compelled  me  to  consent  to  a  series  of  public  speeches. 
Our  friends  said  :  '  We  have  sacrificed  ourselves  in  your  behalf, 
and  have  been  counted  as  the  offscouring,  because  we  had  cham- 
pioned the  cause  of  the  North  ;  and  now  if  you  go  home  without 
making  a  recognition  of  our  efforts  we  will  be  overwhelmed.' 
Aside  from  other  considerations,  I  found  that  a  movement  was 
on  foot  to  induce  Parliament  to  declare  for  the  Southern  Confed- 
eracy. This  they  were  very  willing  to  do,  but  did  not  dare  to 
without  the  approval  of  the  unvoting  English,  who  held  great 
power.  Steps  had  been  taken  by  friends  of  the  Southern  cause 
to  have  orators  go  through  the  manufacturing  districts  for  the 
purpose  of  enlisting  the  sympathies  of  the  laboring  classes. 

"  By  projecting  a  series  of  meetings  on  the  other  side  it  was 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER 


407 


hoped  that  this  mischievous  course  might  be  baffled  and  fore- 
stalled. At  first  there  was  thought  of  but  a  single  speech,  and 
that  at  Manchester.  So  soon  as  it  was  known  that  there  was  to 
be  such  a  meeting  applications  were  made  from  Glasgow,  from 
Edinburgh,  from  Liverpool  and  London,  for  like  meetings  in 
these  places." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Facing   the   Mob   in    Manchester — Glasgow — Edinburgh — Desperate    At- 
tempts to  break  Mr.  Beecher  down  at  Liverpool — Victory  in  London. 

AFTER  spending  some  days  in  the  Lake  district  I  went  to 
Manchester  to  meet  the  engagement  there  for  October 
9th.  Great  excitement  existed  ;  the  streets  were  pla- 
carded with  vast  posters,  printed  in  blood-red,  appealing  to  the 
passions  and  even  to  the  spirit  of  violence  on  the  part  of  the  peo- 
ple. Threats  resounded  on  every  side.  Both  there  and  at  Liver- 
pool afterwards  it  was  declared  that  I  should  never  come  out  of 
the  audience  alive. 

"  I  was  met  at  the  station  by  John  Estcourt  and  young  Watts, 
whose  father  was  Sir  Something  Watts  and  had  the  largest  busi- 
ness house  in  Central  England.  When  they  approached  me  I  saw 
that  there  was  something  amiss,  and  before  I  had  proceeded 
twenty  steps  they  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag  :  '  Of  course  you 
know  there  is  a  great  deal  of  excitement  here ' — at  the  same  time 
pointing  to  placards  printed  in  red  letters,  with  which  the  streets 
were  flooded,  denouncing  the  Northern  cause  and  all  its  advo- 
cates. I  always  feel  happy  when  I  hear  of  a  storm,  and  I  looked 
at  them  and  said  :  'Well,  are  you  going  to  back  down?'  '  No,' 
said  they,  'but  we  didn't  know  how  you  would  feel.'  'Well,' 
said  I,  '  you'll  find  out  how  I'm  going  to  feel.  I'm  going  to  be 
heard.     I  won't  leave  England  until  I  have  been  heard.' 

"  The  Free  Trade  Hall,  I  was  informed,  held  from  five  to  six 
thousand.  It  was  the  purpose  of  our  adversaries  to  break  down 
my  first  speech  in  England  there,  and  prevent  my  being  heard 
thereafter.  All  the  great  papers  of  London  and  of  the  kingdom 
were  represented.  The  tumult  defies  description.  No  Ameri- 
can audience,  under  any  amount  of  excitement  that  I  have  ever 
known,  could  be  compared  for  one  moment  with  the  condition  of 
the  audience  at  Manchester;  and  that  was  equalled,  and  surpassed 
even,  by  the  one  subsequently  at  Liverpool.     If  one  can  imagine 

a  shipmaster    giving    orders   to  a   mutinous    crew   in    the  midst 

408 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  HE  EC  I  IKK.  409 

Of  a  tropical   thunder-storm,  he   will    have  some   faint  idea  of   the 
task  that  was  on  my  hands. 

"  Although  in  every  speech  I  was  obliged  to  rehearse  substan- 
tially the  same  general  facts  in  regard  to  the  questions  at  issue  in 
America,  yet  each  speech  had  a  field  peculiar  to  itself.  \w  Man- 
chester I  discussed  the  effect  of  slavery  upon  manufacturing  in- 
terests of  the  world,  and  gave  a  history  of  the  external  political 
movement  for  fifty  years  past,  so  far  as  it  was  necessary  to  illus- 
trate the  fact  that  the  American  war  was  only  an  overt  and  war- 
like form  of  a  contest  between  liberty  and  slavery  that  had  been 
going  on  politically  for  over  half  a  century." 

After  Mr.  Beecher  was  introduced,  and  before  he  had  fairly 
entered  upon  his  speech,  the  mob  began  to  show  its  teeth,  and  in 
a  few  seconds  there  was  one  unparalleled  scene  of  riot  and  confu- 
sion. Mr.  Beecher  took  the  measure  of  his  audience,  about  one- 
fourth  of  whom  only  were  against  him,  but  they  made  up  in  noise 
and  tumult  what  they  lacked  in  numbers.  They  had  been  sys- 
tematically bunched  about  the  house,  so  as  to  make  their  inter- 
ruptions the  more  effective.  He  had  come  with  his  speech  care- 
fully prepared  in  manuscript,  but  when  the  interruptions  began 
he  tossed  the  paper  to  one  side,  and,  stepping  forward,  with  head 
erect,  said:  "  My  friends,  we  will  have  a  whole  night's  session,  but 
we  will  be  heard."  It  was  like  attempting  to  preach  a  sermon 
through  a  trumpet  in  a  howling  gale ;  but  the  press  was  well  rep- 
resented, and,  bending  forward,  he  said  to  the  reporters  :  "  Gen- 
tlemen, be  kind  enough  to  take  down  what  I  say.  It  will  be  in 
sections,  but  I  will  have  it  connected  by  and  by."  The  uproar 
continued,  and  all  sorts  of  insulting  questions  were  hurled  at  the 
speaker.  The  latter,  however,  had  made  up  his  mind  to  be 
heard,  and  he  was.  He  would  wait  until  the  noise  had  somewhat 
subsided,  then,  arresting  the  attention  of  the  audience  by  some 
witticism,  he  would  take  advantage  of  the  lull  to  give  them  some 
telling  sentences.  Finally,  after  about  an  hour  of  speaking  by 
fits  and  starts,  the  audience  became  manageable.  The  English 
admire  pluck,  and  they  had  an  excellent  example  of  the  article 
before  them,  and  finally  could  not  fail  to  show  their  appreciation. 
His  cool,  determined  appearance  as  he  said,  "  I  have  many  times 
encountered  similar  opposition,  and  afterwards  been  heard  ;  / 
shall  be  heard  to-night"  produced  a  marked  effect,  and  in  a  short 
time  thereafter  the  vast  assemblage  was  brought  in  perfect  silence 


4 1 0  BIO  GRA  PII Y  OF 

and  into  full  sympathy  with  the  speaker.  They  listened  during 
the  remaining  hour,  and  were  convinced ;  the  next  morning 
every  paper  in  England  printed  the  entire  speech. 

Just  as  the  speaker  was  drawing  to  a  close, 'occurred  a  st  r- 
ring  incident  that  strongly  emphasized  the  effect  of  this  speech. 
The  chairman,  taking  advantage  of  a  slight  pause,  touched  Mr. 
Beecher  on  the  shoulder  and  whispered  a  few  words  to  him. 
The  latter  retired  sufficiently  to  give  his  place  to  the  chairman, 
who,  raising  a  paper  which  he  held,  said  in  a  distinct  voice  :  "  I 
hold  in  my  hand  a  telegram  just  received  from  London,  stat- 
ing that  her  Majesty  has  to-night  caused  the  '  broad  arrow  '  to  be 
placed  on  the  rams  in  Mr.  Laird's  yard  at  Birkenhead."  This 
meant  the  stoppage  of  the  ships  which  were  being  built  for  Con- 
federate cruisers.  The  effect  was  startling.  The  whole  audience 
rose  to  its  feet.  Men  cheered  and  waved  their  hats,  while 
women  waved  their  handkerchiefs  and  wept. 

At  the  conclusion  of  his  address  the  feeling  of  the  audience, 
which  a  short  time  previous  had  been  a  howling  mob,  can  be 
best  portrayed  by  the  following  incident  :  A  big,  burly  English- 
man who  was  sitting  in  the  gallery,  seeing  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  reach  Mr.  Beecher  to  shake  hands  with  him,  cried, 
"Shake  my  umbrella,"  at  the  same  time  reaching  it  down  to  him. 
Mr.  Beecher  complied  with  the  request,  and  as  he  did  so  the  en- 
thusiastic Englishman  cried,  "By  Jocks!  nobody  sha'n't  touch 
that  umbrella  again ! "  Hundreds  of  others,  more  fortunate, 
crowded  in  to  shake  the  speaker's  hand. 

Of  course  it  will  be  impossible,  within  our  space,  to  give  the 
speeches  entire,  whilst  an  attempt  at  analysis  would  be  like  pre- 
senting a  bony  skeleton  bared  of  its  flesh,  omitting  all  that  gave 
them  life  and  strength.  But  a  few  of  the  more  striking  passages 
from  each  speech  may  not  be  uninteresting :  * 

"I  have  not  come  to  England  to  be  surprised  that  those  men 
whose  cause  cannot  bear  the  light  are  afraid  of  free  speech.  I 
have  had  practice  of  more  than  twenty-five  years,  in  the  presence 
of  tumultuous  assemblies,  opposing  those  very  men  whose  repre- 
sentatives now  attempt  to  forestall  free  speech.  Little  by  little, 
I  doubt  not,  I  shall  be  permitted  to  speak  to-night.     Little  by 

*  These  speeches  have  been  reprinted  in  full  in  "Patriotic  Addresses," 
by  Messrs.  Ford,  Howard  &  Hulburt,  of  New  York. 


A  E  l '.  Ill  .  \  'A'  V   11  A  rd  B  E  /•.  CUE  a\  4 1  ! 

little  I  have  been  permitted  in  my  own  country  to  speak,  until  at 
last  the  day  has  come  there,  when  nothing  but  the  utterance  ol 
speech  for  freedom  is  popular.     You  have  been  pleased  to  speak 

of  me  as  one  connected  with  the  great  cause  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty.  I  covet  no  higher  honor  than  to  have  my  name  joined 
to  the  list  of  that  great  company  of  noble  Englishmen  from 
whom  we  derived  our  doctrines  of  liberty.  For  although  there  is 
some  opposition  to  what  are  here  called  American  ideas,  what  are 
these  American  ideas  ?  They  are  simply  English  ideas  bearing 
fruit  in  America.  We  bring  back  American  sheaves,  but  the 
seed  corn  we  got  in  England;  and  if,  on  a  larger  sphere  and 
under  circumstances  of  unobstruction,  we  have  reared  mightier 
harvests,  every  sheaf  contains  the  grain  that  has  made  Old  Eng- 
land rich  for  a  hundred  years.   .  .  . 

"  Allusion  has  been  made  by  one  of  the  gentlemen  to  words 
or  deeds  of  mine  that  might  be  supposed  to  be  offensive  to  Eng- 
lishmen. I  am  sure  that  in  the  midst  of  this  mighty  struggle  at 
home,  which  has  taxed  every  power  and  energy  of  our  people,  I 
have  never  stopped  to  measure  and  to  think  whether  my  words, 
spoken  in  truth  and  with  fidelity  to  duty,  would  be  liked  in  this 
shape  or  in  that  shape,  by  one  or  another  person,  either  in  Eng- 
land or  America.  I  have  had  one  simple,  honest  purpose,  which 
I  have  pursued  ever  since  I  have  been  in  public  life,  and  that 
was,  with  all  the  strength  that  God  has  given  to  me,  to  maintain 
the  cause  of  the  poor  and  of  the  weak  in  my  own  country.  And 
if,  in  the  height  and  heat  of  conflict,  some  words  have  been 
over-sharp  and  some  positions  have  been  taken  heedlessly,  are 
you  the  men  to  call  one  to  account  ?  What  if  some  exquisite 
dancing-master,  standing  on  the  edge  of  a  battle  where  Richard 
Cceur  de  Lion  swung  his  axe,  criticised  him  by  saying  that  '  his 
gestures  and  postures  violated  the  proprieties  of  polite  life  '  ? 
When  dandies  fight  they  think  how  they  look,  but  when  men 
fight  they  think  only  of  deeds.  But  I  am  not  here  either  on  trial 
or  on  defence.  Here  I  am  before  you,  willing  to  tell  you  what 
I  think  about  England  or  any  person  in  it.  The  same  agencies 
which  have  been  at  work  to  misrepresent  good  men  in  our 
country  to  you,  have  been  at  work  to  misrepresent  to  us  good 
men  here  ;  and  when  I  say  to  my  friends  in  America  that  I  have 
attended  such  a  meeting  as  this,  received  such  an  address,  and 
beheld  such  enthusiasm,  it  will  be  a  renewed  pledge  of  amity. 


4 1  2  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

I  have  never  ceased  to  feel  that  war,  or  even  unkind  feelings  be- 
tween two  such  great  nations,  would  be  one  of  the  most  unpar- 
donable and  atrocious  offences  that  the  world  ever  beheld,  and 
I  have  regarded  everything,  therefore,  which  needlessly  led 
to  those  feelings  out  of  which  war  comes,  as  being  in  itself 
wicked.  The  same  blood  is  in  us.  We  hold  the  same  substan- 
tial doctrines.  We  have  the  same  mission  amongst  the  nations 
of  the  earth.  Never  were  mother  and  daughter  set  forth  to  do 
so  queenly  a  thing  in  the  kingdom  of  God's  glory  as  England 
and  America.  Do  you  ask  why  we  are  so  sensitive,  and  why  have 
we  hewn  England  with  our  tongue  as  we  have  ?  I  will  tell  you 
why.  There  is  no  man  who  can  offend  you  so  deeply  as  the  one 
you  love  most.  .  .  .  Now  (whether  we  interpreted  it  aright  or  not 
is  not  the  question),  when  we  thought  England  was  seeking  op- 
portunity to  go  with  the  South  against  us  of  the  North,  it  hurt  us 
as  no  other  nation's  conduct  could  hurt  us  on  the  face  of  the 
globe  ;  and  if  we  spoke  some  words  of  intemperate  heat,  we 
spoke  them  in  the  mortification  of  disappointed  affection.  It 
has  been  supposed  that  I  have  aforetime  urged  or  threatened  war 
with  England.  Never  !  This  I  have  said — and  this  I  repeat 
now  and  here — that  the  cause  of  constitutional  government,  and 
of  universal  liberty  as  associated  with  it,  in  our  country,  was  so 
dear,  so  sacred  that,  rather  than  betray  it,  we  would  give  the  last 
child  we  had;  that  we  would  not  relinquish  this  conflict  though 
other  States  rose  and  entered  into  a  league  with  the  South  ;  and 
that,  if  it  were  necessary,  we  would  maintain  this  great  doctrine 
of  representative  government  in  America  against  the  armed  world 
— against  England  and  France.  .  .  .  We  ask  no  help  and  no 
hindrance.  We  do  not  ask  for  material  aid.  We  shall  be  grate- 
ful for  moral  sympathy  ;  but  if  you  cannot  give  us  moral  sym- 
pathy we  shall  still  endeavor  to  do  without  it.  All  that  we  say 
is,  Let  France  keep  away,  let  England  keep  hands  off  ;  if  we  can- 
not manage  this  rebellion  by  ourselves,  then  let  it  not  be  manag- 
ed at  all.  We  do  not  allow  ourselves  to  doubt  the  issue  of  this 
conflict.  It  is  only  a  question  of  time.  For  such  inestimable 
principles  as  are  at  stake — of  self-government,  of  representative 
government,  of  any  government  at  all,  of  free  institutions  rejected 
because  they  inevitably  will  bring  liberty  to  slaves  unless  sub- 
verted, of  national  honor,  and  fidelity  to  solemn  national 
trusts — for  all  these  war  is  waged  ;  and  if  by  war  these  shall  be 


kEV.   HENRY   WARD  BEECHER*  4 1  3 

secured,  not  one  drop  of  blood  will  be  wasted,  not  one  life 
squandered.  The  suffering  will  have  purchased  a  glorious  future 
of  inconceivable  peace  and  happiness!  Nor  do  we  deem  the 
result  doubtful.     The  population  is  in  the  North  and  West.     The 

wealth  is  there.  The  popular  intelligence  of  the  country  is  there. 
THERE  only  is  there  an  educated  common  people.  The  right 
doctrines  of  civil  government  are  with  the  North.  It  will  not  be 
long  before  one  thing  more  will  be  with  the  North — victory. 
Men  on  this  side  are  impatient  at  the  long  delay  ;  but  if  we  can 
bear  it,  can't  you  ?  You  are  quite  at  ease  ;  we  are  not.  You  arc- 
not  materially  affected  in  any  such  degree  as  many  parts  of  our 
own  land  are.  But  if  the  day  shall  come  in  one  year,  in  two  years, 
or  in  ten  years  hence,  when  the  old  stars  and  stripes  shall  float 
over  every  State  of  America  ;  if  the  day  shall  come  when  that 
which  was  the  accursed  cause  of  this  dire  and  atrocious  war — 
slavery — shall  be  done  away  ;  if  the  day  shall  have  come  when 
through  all  the  Gulf  States  there  shall  be  liberty  of  speech,  as 
there  never  has  been  ;  when  there  shall  be  liberty  of  the  press,  as 
there  never  has  been  ;  when  men  shall  have  common  schools  to 
send  their  children  to,  which  they  never  have  had  in  the  South  ; 
in  short,  if  the  day  shall  come  when  the  simple  ordinances,  the 
fruition  and  privileges,  of  civil  liberty,  shall  prevail  in  every  part 
of  the  United  States — it  will  be  worth  all  the  dreadful  blood 
and  tears  and  woe.  You  are  impatient  ;  and  yet  God  dwelleth 
in  eternity,  and  has  an  infinite  leisure  to  roll  forward  the  affairs 
of  men,  not  to  suit  the  hot  impatience  of  those  who  are  but  chil- 
dren of  a  day  and  cannot  wait  or  linger  long,  but  according  to 
the  infinite  circle  on  which  He  measures  time  and  events  !  .  .  . 

"  The  institutions  of  America  were  shaped  by  the  North  ;  but 
the  po/ icy  of  her  government,  for  half  a  hundred  years,  by  the 
South.  All  the  aggression  and  filibustering,  all  the  threats  to 
England  and  tauntings  of  Europe,  all  the  bluster  of  war  which 
our  government  has  assumed,  have  been  under  the  inspiration 
and  under  the  almost  monarchical  sway  of  the  Southern  oligar- 
chy. And  now,  since  Britain  has  in  the  past  been  snubbed  by 
the  Southerners,  and  threatened  by  the  Southerners,  and  domi- 
neered over  by  the  Southerners — yet  now  Great  Britain  has 
thrown  her  arms  of  love  around  the  Southerners,  and  turns 
from  the  Northerners.  [A  voice,  'No.']  She  don't?  I  have 
only  to  say  that  she  has  been  caught   in  very  suspicious  circum- 


414  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

stances.  I  speak  as  I  have,  perhaps  as  much  as  anything  else, 
to  bring  out  from  you  this  expression  ;  to  let  you  know,  what  we 
know,  that  all  the  hostility  felt  in  my  country  towards  Great  Bri- 
tain has  been  sudden,  and  from  supposing  that  you  sided  with 
the  South  and  sought  the  breaking  up  of  our  country  ;  and  I 
want  you  to  say  to  me,  and  through  me  to  my  countrymen,  that 
those  irritations  against  the  North,  and  those  likings  for  the 
South,  that  have  been  expressed  in  your  papers,  are  not  the  feel- 
ings of  the  great  mass  of  your  nation.  [Great  cheering,  the 
audience  rising.]  Those  cheers  already  sound  in  my  ears  as  the 
coming  acclamations  of  friendly  nations  ;  those  waving  handker- 
chiefs are  the  white  banners  that  symbolize  peace  for  all  coun- 
tries. Join  with  us,  then,  Britons.  From  you  we  learnt  the  doc- 
trine of  what  a  man  was  worth  ;  from  you  we  learnt  to  detest  all 
oppressions  ;  from  you  we  learnt  that  it  was  the  noblest  thing  a 
man  could  do  to  die  for  a  right  prinxiple.  And  now, 
when  we  are  set  in  that  very  course,  and  are  giving  our  best 
blood  for  these  most  sacred  principles,  let  the  world  understand 
that  the  common  people  of  Great  Britain  support  us.  .  .  ." 

The  attempt  to  "  break  Beecher  down  at  his  first  speech  " 
signally  failed.  He  had  beaten  the  mob.  He  had  made  him- 
self heard,  and  the  full  reports  of  his  speech  were  scattered 
throughout  the  entire  kingdom.  Many  crude  misconceptions  were 
corrected,  not  a  few  of  his  opponents  were  converted,  while  many 
others  were  forced  to  admit  that  they  had  received  some  new 
ideas  respecting  the  North  and  the  United  States  government. 
On  the  13th  he  spoke  in  Glasgow,  where  the  blockade- runners 
were  being  built,  and  where  the  laboring-classes  were  in  some 
sense  bribed  by  their  occupation  in  the  shipyards.  Here  were 
discussed  the  effects  of  slavery  upon  the  welfare-  of  the  working- 
classes  the  world  over,  showing  the  condition  of  work  or  labor 
necessitated  by  any  profitable  system  of  slavery,  demonstrating 
that  it  brought  labor  into  contempt,  affixing  to  it  the  badge  of 
degradation  ;  that  a  struggle  to  extend  servile  labor  across  the 
American  continent  interests  every  free  workingman  on  the 
globe,  and  that  the  Southern  cause  was  the  natural  enemy  of  free 
labor  and  the  free  laborer  all  the  world  over. 

A  strong  Southern  sentiment  existed  here,  and  the  same  at- 
tempt was  made  as  in  Manchester  to  break  the  speaker  down. 
The  Citv  Hall  was  crowded  to   its  utmost  limits  with  friends  and 


RE  l '.  HENR  Y  WARD  B  E  E  t  'HE  A\  4  I  5 

opponents.  The  opposition  here  was  neither  so  determined  nor 
prolonged  as  at  Manchester.  His  success  there  had  encouraged 
him  while  it  discouraged  them. 

\\\>  opening  sentences  established  a  kindly  bond  between 
the  hearers,  so  devotedly  attached  to  their  own  country,  and  the 

speaker.  Their  kindly  interest  once  aroused,  it  was  not  difficult 
to  gain  and  keep  their  sympathy  throughout  the  speech.  The 
unruly  element  was  soon  put  down,  but  little  disturbance  occur- 
ring after  the  first   half-hour. 

"  No  one  who  has  been  born  and  reared  in  Scotland  can  know 
the  feeling  with  which,  for  the  first  time,  such  a  one  as  I  have 
visited  this  land,  classic  in  song  and  in  history.  I  have  been 
reared  in  a  country  whose  history  is  brief.  So  vast  is  it  that 
one  might  travel  night  and  day  for  all  the  week,  and  yet  scarcely 
touch  historic  ground.  Its  history  is  yet  to  be  written  ;  it  is  yet 
to  be  acted.  But  I  come  to  this  land,  which,  though  small,  is  as 
full  of  memories  as  the  heaven  is  of  stars,  and  almost  as  bright. 
There  is  not  the  most  insignificant  piece  of  water  that  does  not 
make  my  heart  thrill  with  some  story  of  heroism  or  some  remem- 
bered poem  ;  for  not  only  has  Scotland  had  the  good  fortune  to 
have  had  men  that  knew  how  to  make  heroic  history,  but  she  has 
reared  those  bards  who  have  known  how  to  sing  her  histo- 
ries. ...  I  come  to  Scotland,  almost  as  a  pilgrim  would  go  to 
Jerusalem,  to  see  those  scenes  whose  stories  had  stirred  my  imagi- 
nation from  my  earliest  youth  ;  and  I  can  pay  no  higher  compli- 
ment than  to  say  that,  having  seen  some  part  of  Scotland,  I  am 
satisfied;  and  permit  me  to  say  that  if,  when  you  know  me,  you 
are  a  thousandth  part  as  satisfied  with  me  as  I  am  with  you,  we 
shall  get  along  very  well  together.  And  yet,  although  I  am  not 
of  a  yielding  mood  nor  easily  daunted,  I  have  some  embarrass- 
ment in  speaking  to  you  to-night.  I  know  very  well  that  there 
are  not  a  few  things  which  prevent  my  doing  good  work  among 
you.  I  differ  greatly  from  many  of  you.  I  respect,  although  I 
will  not  adopt,  your  opinions.  I  can  only  ask  as  much  from  you 
for  myself.  I  am  aware  that  a  personal  prejudice  has  been  dili- 
gently excited  against  me.  ...  It  is  not  a  pleasant  avenue  to  a 
speech  for  a'man  to  walk  through  himself.  But  since  every  pains 
is  taken  to  misrepresent  me,  let  me  once  for  all  deal  with  that 
matter.  In  my  own  land  I  have  been  the  subject  of  misrepre- 
sentation and  abuse  so  long  that  when  I  did   not  receive  it  I  felt 


41 6  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

as  though  something  was  wanting  in  the  atmosphere.  I  have 
been  the  object  of  misrepresentation  at  home  simply  and  only 
because  I  have  been  arrayed,  ever  since  I  had  a  voice  to  speak 
and  a  heart  to  feel — body  and  soul  I  have  been  arrayed,  without 
regard  to  consequences,  and  to  my  own  reputation  or  my  own 
ease,  against  that  which  I  consider  the  damning  sin  of  my  country 
and  the  shame  of  human  nature — slavery.  I  thought  I  had  a 
right,  when  I  came  to  Great  Britain,  to  expect  a  different  recep- 
tion ;  but  I  found  that  the  insidious  correspondence  of  men  in 
America  had  poisoned  the  British  mind,  and  that  representations 
had  been  made  that  I  had  indulged  in  the  most  offensive  language 
and  had  threatened  all  sorts  of  things  against  Great  Britain.  Now, 
allow  me  to  say  that,  having  examined  that  interesting  literature, 
so  far  as  I  have  seen  it  published  in  British  newspapers,  I  here 
declare  that  ninety-nine  out  of  one  hundred  parts  of  those  things 
that  I  am  charged  with  saying  I  never  said  and  never  thought — 
they  are  falsehoods  wholly  and  in  particular.  Allow  me  next  to  say 
that  I  have  been  accustomed  freely  and  at  all  times,  at  home,  to 
speak  what  I  thought  to  be  sober  truth  both  of  blame  and  of 
praise  of  Great  Britain,  and  if  you  do  not  want  to  hear  a  man 
express  his  honest  sentiments  fearlessly,  then  I  do  not  want  to 
speak  to  you.  If  I  never  spared  my  own  country,  if  I  never 
spared  the  American  Church,  nor  the  government,  nor  my  own 
party,  nor  my  personal  friends,  did  you  expect  I  would  spare 
you  ?  .  .  .  I  have  heard  the  voice  of  my  Master,  saying,  '  If  any 
man  come  unto  Me  and  hate  not  father,  and  mother,  and  brother, 
and  sister,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he  is  not  worthy  of  Me.' 
When,  therefore,  the  cause  of  truth  and  justice  is  put  in  the  scale 
against  my  own  country,  I  would  disown  country  for  the  sake  of 
truth  ;  and  when  the  cause  of  truth  and  justice  is  put  in  the  scale 
against  Great  Britain,  I  would  disown  her  rather  than  betray  what 
I  understood  to  be  the  truth.  We  are  bound  to  establish  liberty, 
regulated  Christian  liberty,  as  the  law  of  the  American  Continent. 
This  is  our  destiny,  this  is  that  towards  which  the  education  of 
the  rising  generation  has  been  more  and  more  assiduously  di- 
rected as  the  peculiar  glory  of  America — to  destroy  slavery  and 
root  it  out  of  our  land,  and  to  establish  in  its  place  a  discreet,  in- 
telligent, constitutional,  regulated  Christian  liberty.  ...  I  call 
your  attention  to  a  few  propositions,  then,  in  reference  to  slavery 
as  it  exists  in  the  extreme  Southern  States.     And,  first,  the  svstem 


REV.  HENRY  WARa  f£R.  41  7 

of  slavery  requires  ignorance  in  the  slave,  and  not  alone  intelta  t- 

ual  but  moral  and  social  ignorance.  Anybody  who  is  a  slave- 
holder will  find  that  there  are  reasons  which  will  compel  him  to 
keep  slaves  in  ignorance,  it  he  is  going  to  keep  them  at  all.  Not 
because  intelligence  is  more  difficult  to  govern  ;  tor  with  an  in- 
telligent people  government  is  easier.  .  .  .  The  slave  would  not 
be  less  easily  governed  it"  he  were  educated.  If  the  slaveholder 
taught  him  to  read  and  write,  if  he  made  him  to  know  what  he 
ought  to  know  as  one  of  God's  dear  children,  the  South  would 
not  be  so  much  endangered  by  insurrection  as  she  is  now.  There 
is  nothing  so  terrible  as  explosive  ignorance.  Men  without  an 
idea,  striking  blindly  and  passionately,  are  the  men  to  be  feared. 
Even  if  the  slaves  were  educated  they  would  be  better  slaves. 
What  is  the  reason,  then,  that  slaves  must  be  kept  in  ignorance  ? 
The  real  reason  is  one  of  expense.  In  order  to  make  slave  labor 
profitable  you  must  reduce  the  cost  of  the  slave  ;  for  the  differ- 
ence between  the  profit  and  the  loss  turns  upon  the  halfpenny 
per  pound.  If  the  price  of  slaves  goes  up  and  cotton  goes 
down  a  shade  in  price,  in  ordinary  times,  the  planters  lose.  The 
rule  is,  therefore,  to  reduce  the  cost  of  the  man  ;  and  the  slave, 
to  be  profitable,  must  be  simply  a  working  creature.  What  does 
a  man  cost  that  is  a  slave  ?  Just  a  little  meal  and  a  little 
pork,  a  small  measure  of  the  coarsest  cloth  and  leather — that  is 
all  he  costs.  Because  that  is  all  he  needs — the  lowest  fare  and 
the  scantiest  clothing.  He  is  a  man  with  two  hands,  and  two 
feet,  and  a  belly.  That  is  all  there  is  of  a  profitable  slave. 
But  every  new  development  within  him  which  religion  shall 
make — the  sense  of  fatherhood,  the  wish  for  a  home,  the  desire 
to  rear  his  children  well,  the  wish  to  honor  and  comfort  his 
wife,  every  taste,  every  sentiment,  every  aspiration — will  demand 
some  external  thing  to  satisfy  it.  His  being  augments.  He 
demands  more  time.  .  .  .  Profitable  slaveholding  requires  only  so 
much  intelligence  as  will  work  well,  and  only  so  much  religion  as 
will  make  men  patient  under  suffering  and  abuse.  More  than 
that — more  conscience,  more  ambition,  more  divine  ideas  of  hu- 
man nature,  of  men's  dignity,  of  household  virtue,  of  Christian 
refinement — only  makes  the  slave  too  costly  in  his  tastes.  Not 
only  does  the  degradation  of  the  slave  pass  over  to  his  work,  but 
it  affects  all  labor,  even  when  performed  by  free  white  men. 
Throughout  the  South  there  is  the  most  marked  public  disesteem 


41  8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

of  honest  homely  industry.  .  .  .  But  even  in  the  most  favored 
portions  of  the  South  manual  labor  is  but  barely  redeemed  from 
the  taint  of  being  a  slave's  business,  and  nowhere  is  it  honored  as 
it  is  in  the  great  and  free  North.  Whereas,  in  the  richer  and  more 
influential  portions  of  the  South,  labor  is  so  degraded  that  men  are 
ashamed  of  it.  It  is  a  badge  of  dishonor.  The  poor  and  shift- 
less whites,  unable  to  own  slaves,  unwilling  to  work  themselves, 
live  in  a  precarious  and  wretched  manner  but  a  little  removed 
from  barbarism,  relying  upon  the  chase  for  much  of  their  sub- 
sistence, and  affording  a  melancholy  spectacle  of  the  condition 
into  which  the  reflex  influence  of  slavery  throws  the  neighboring 
poor  whites.  Having  turned  their  own  industry  over  to  slaves, 
and  established  the  province  and  duties  of  a  gentleman  to  consist 
of  indolence  and  politics,  it  is  not  strange  that  they  hold  the  peo- 
ple of  the  North  in  great  contempt.  The  North  is  a  vast  hive  of 
universal  industry.  Idleness  there  is  as  disreputable  as  is  labor 
in  the  South.  The  child's  earliest  lesson  is  faithful  industry. 
The  boy  works,  the  man  works.  Everywhere  through  all  the 
North  men  earn  their  own  living  by  their  own  industry  and  in- 
genuity. They  scorn  to  be  dependent.  They  revolt  at  the  dis- 
honor of  living  upon  the  unrequited  labor  of  others.  Honest 
labor  is  that  highway  along  which  the  whole  body  of  the  Northern 
people  travel  towards  wealth  and  usefulness.  From  Northern 
looms  the  South  is  clothed,  from  their  anvils  come  all  Southern 
implements  of  labor,  from  their  shops  all  modern  ware,  from 
their  lasts  Southern  shoes.  The  North  is  growing  rich  by  its 
own  industry.  No  wonder,  then,  that  Southerners  have  been  wont 
to  deride  the  free  workmen  of  the  North.  Governor  Hammond 
only  gave  expression  to  the  universal  contempt  of  Southern  slave- 
holders for  work  and  workmen  when  he  called  the  Northern 
laborer  the  '  mudsill  of  society,'  and  stigmatized  the  artisan  as 
the  '  greasy  mechanic'  The  North  and  South  alike  live  by 
work  :  the  North  by  their  own  work,  the  South  by  that  of  their 
slaves  !  Which  is  the  more  honorable  ?  I  have  a  right  to 
demand  of  the  workmen  of  Glasgow  that  they  should  refuse 
their  sympathy  to  the  South,  and  should  give  their  hearty  sym- 
pathy to  those  who  are,  like  themselves,  seeking  to  make  work 
honorable  and  to  give  to  the  workman  his  true  place  in  society. 
Disguise  it  as  they  will,  distract  your  attention  from  it  as  they 
may,  it  cannot  be  concealed  that   the   American  question  is  the 


A  /•  I '.  HE  XRY  i:  A  A'  /)   /.'  E  E  l  HE  A\  419 

lans  question  all  over  the  world!  The  slavemasf 
doctrine  is  that  capita!  should  own  labor — thai  the  employ 
should   own    the    employed.      This    is   Southern   doctrine   and 

Southern  practice.  Northern  doctrine  and  Northern  ]>r.x  h<  <• 
IS  that  the  laborer  should  be  tree,  intelligent,  clothed  with  full 
citizen's  rights,  with  a  share  of  the  political  duties  and  honors. 

The  North  has  from  the  beginning  crowned  labor  with  honor. 
Nowhere   else  on   earth   is  it   so   honorable." 

Oil  the  following  evening,  October  14,  he  spoke  in  Edinburgh. 
The  crowd,  that  packed  the  hall  and  completely  blocked  the 
entrances,  was  so  vast  that  it  very  nearly  deprived  the  meeting 
of  both  chairman  and  speaker.  With  great  difficulty  they  man- 
aged to  struggle  through  and  finally  reached  the  platform. 
Edinburgh  being  a  centre  of  refinement  and  learning,  Mr. 
Beecher  aimed  to  give  some  idea  of  the  philosophy  of  slavery, 
showing,  how,  out  of  separate  colonies  and  States  intensely  jealous 
of  their  individual  sovereignty,  there  grew  up  and  was  finally  es- 
tablished a  nation;  and  how,  in  that  nation  of  united  States,  the 
distinct  and  antagonistic  systems  were  developed  and  strove  for 
the  guidance  of  the  national  policy,  which  struggle  at  length 
passed  and  the  North  gained  the  control.  Thereupon  the  South 
abandoned  the  Union,  simply  and  solely  because  the  govern- 
ment was  in  future  to  be  administered  by  men  who  would  give 
their  whole  influence  to  freedom.  Comparatively  speaking,  but 
little  opposition  was  encountered  at  this  meeting.  At  the  outset 
some  disturbance  was  attempted,  but  the  temper  of  the  audience 
was  opposed  to  the  unruly  ones  and  they  were  soon  quieted. 
The  speech  produced  a  marked  impression,  the  resolution  and 
vote  of  thanks  being  carried  with  "loud  and  prolonged  applause." 
We  give  a  few  extracts  from  it  : 

"  During  the  last  fifteen  years  I  believe  you  cannot  find  a 
voice,  primed  or  uttered,  in  the  cotton  States  of  the  South,  which 
deplored  slavery.  All  believed  in  and  praised  it,  and  found 
authority  for  it  in  God's  Word.  Politicians  admired  it,  mer- 
chants appreciated  it,  the  whole  South  sang  paeans  to  the  new- 
found truth  that  man  was  born  to  be  owned  by  man.  This 
change  of  doctrine  made  it  certain  that  the  South  would  be  an- 
noyed and  irritated  by  a  Constitution  which,  with  all  its  faults, 
still  carried  the  God-given  principle  of  human  rights,  which  were 
not  to  be  taken  by  man  except  in  punishment  for  crime.     That 


420  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Constitution,  and  the  policy  which  went  with  it  at  first,  began  to 
gnaw  at,  and  irritate,  and  fret  the  South  when  they  had  adopted 
slavery  as  a  doctrine.  How  could  they  live  in  peace  under  a 
Constitution  that  all  the  time  declared  the  manhood  of  men  and 
the  dignity  of  freedom  ?  It  became  necessary  that  they  should 
do  one  of  two  things,  either  give  up  slavery  or  appropriate  the 
government  to  themselves,  and  in  some  way  or  other  drain  out  of 
the  Constitution  this  venom  of  liberty  and  infuse  a  policy  more 
in  harmony  with  Southern  ideas.  They  took  the  latter  course. 
They  contrived  to  possess  themselves  of  the  government  ;  and 
for  the  last  fifty  years  the  policy  of  the  country  has  been 
Southern.  Was  a  tariff  wanted  ?  It  was  made  a  Southern 
tariff.  Was  a  tariff  oppressive?  The  Southerners  overthrew 
it.  Was  a  tariff  wanted  again  ?  The  Southern  policy  declared 
it  to  be  necessary,  and  it  was  passed.  Was  more  territory 
wanted  ?  The  South  must  have  its  way.  Was  any  man  to  ob- 
tain a  place  ?  If  the  South  opposed  it  he  had  no  chance  what- 
ever. For  fifty  years  most  of  the  men  who  became  judges,  who 
sat  in  the  presidential  chair  and  in  the  courts,  had  to  base 
their  opinions  on  slavery  or  on  Southern  views.  All  the  filibus- 
tering, all  the  intimidations  of  foreign  powers,  all  the  so-called 
snubbing  of  European  powers,  happened  during  the  period  in 
which  the  policy  of  the  country  was  controlled  by  the  South. 
May  I  be  permitted  to  look  on  it  as  a  mark  of  victorious  Chris- 
tianity that  England  now  loves  her  worst  enemy,  and  is  sitting 
with  arms  of  sympathy  round  her  neck  ?  The  man  who  was  an 
Abolitionist  when  I  was  twenty-one  years  of  age  might  bid  fare- 
well to  any  hopes  of  political  advancement ;  and  the  merchant 
who  held  these  opinions  was  soon  robbed  of  customers.  As  far 
as  I  remember,  there  was  nothing  in  the  world  that  so  ruined  a 
man — not  crime  itself  was  so  fatal  to  a  man's  standing  in  the 
country — as  to  be  known  to  hold  abolition  sentiments.  The 
churches  sought  to  keep  the  question  of  slavery  out  ;  so  did  the 
schools  and  colleges  ;  so  did  synods  and  conventions.  But  still 
the  cause  of  abolition  progressed  ;  and  still,  as  is  always  the  case 
with  everything  that  is  right,  though  the  men  who  held  those 
sentiments  were  scoffed  at,  though  such  men  as  Garrison  were 
dragged  through  the  streets  with  halters  round  their  necks,  yet 
the  more  it  was  spoken  of  and  canvassed  the  more  the  cause 
prospered,  because  it  was  true.     The  insanity  at  last  abated  :  for 


RE  I '.  HBNR  Y  WARD  BEE  t  'HER.  4  2  I 

the  command  came  from  on  High  saying  to  the  evil  spirit  con- 
cerning the  North  :  '  I  command  thee  to  come  out  of  her.' 
Then   the  nation  wallowed  on   the  ground  and  foamed    at  the 

mouth  ;    but    the   unclean   spirit    passed   out,  and   she   be<  ame 

clean.  The  more  some  people  wanted  to  keep  down  this  subject 
and  keep  out  the  air,  the  more  God  forced  the  subject  on  their 
minds.  When  Missouri  knocked  at  the  door  there  were  those 
who  opposed  its  admission  as  a  slave  State,  but  by  Southern 
management  and  intimidation  Henry  Clay  persuaded  the  North 
to  a  compromise.  Now,  when  there  is  no  difference  in  prin- 
ciple, but  only  conflicting  interests,  a  compromise  is  honorable 
and  right  ;  but  when  antagonistic  principles  are  in  question  I 
believe  compromises  to  be  bargains  with  the  devil,  who  is  never 
cheated.  .  .  .  We  do  not  want  to  quarrel  ;  we  do  not  want  ani- 
mosity between  Great  Britain  and  America.  No  man  has  spoken 
of  Great  Britain  words  of  praise  and  blame  with  more  honest 
heart  than  I  have.  That  man  is  not  your  friend  who  dares  not 
speak  of  your  faults  to  your  face.  The  man  that  is  your  friend, 
tells  you  when  he  thinks  you  are  wrong ;  and  whether  I  am  right 
or  wrong,  I  assert  that  in  giving  moral  sympathy  largely  to  the 
South,  and,  above  all,  in  allowing  the  infamous  traffic  of  your 
ports  with  the  rebels,  thus  strengthening  the  hands  of  the  slave- 
holders— and  that  without  public  rebuke — you  have  done 
wrong.  I  have  said  this  because,  dear  as  your  country  is  to  us, 
precious  as  were  the  legacies  given  to  us  of  learning  and  re- 
ligion, and  proud  as  we  have  been  for  years  past  to  think  of  our 
ancestry  and  common  relationship  to  you,  yet  so  much  dearer 
to  us  than  kindred  is  the  cause  of  God  that,  if  Great  Britain  sets 
herself  against  us,  we  shall  not  hesitate  one  moment  on  her 
account,  but  shall  fulfil  our  mission  !  .  .  .  I  have  a  closing  word 
to  speak.  It  is  our  duty  in  America,  by  every  means  in  our 
power,  to  avoid  all  cause  of  irritation  with  every  foreign  nation, 
and  with  the  English  nation  most  especially.  On  your  side  it  is 
your  duty  to  avoid  all  irritating  interference,  and  all  speech  that 
tends  to  irritate.  Brothers  should  be  brothers  all  the  world  over, 
and  you  are  of  our  blood,  and  we  are  of  your  lineage.  May  that 
day  be  far  distant  when  Great  Britain  and  America  shall  turn 
their  backs  on  each  other  and  seek  an  alliance  with  other  na- 
tions !  The  day  is  coming  when  the  foundations  of  the  earth  will 
be  lifted   out  of   their   places  ;  and    there  are  two   nations    that 


42  2  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ought  to  be  found  shoulder  to  shoulder  and  hand  in  hand  for 
the  sake  of  Christianity  and  universal  liberty,  and  these  nations 
are  Great  Britain  and  America." 

The  effect  of  these  three  speeches  was  being  very  widely 
felt.  It  looked  at  first  as  though  the  backbone  of  opposition 
had  been  broken. 

This  pleasant  impression  was  soon  dispelled.  The  mob 
spirit  was  not  dead  ;  it  was  only  resting  and  gaining  breath  for 
a  final  and  more  desperate  effort. 

The  next  speech  was  to  be  in  Liverpool  on  the  16th,  at  the 
great  Philharmonic  Hall. 

Liverpool  was  the  headquarters  of  the  Southern  sympathizers. 
A  great  many  Southern  men  were  there. 

The  feeling  was  very  strong  that  if  Mr.  Beecher  should  suc- 
ceed there  he  would  carry  the  day.  A  determined  and  desperate 
effort  was  to  be  made,  at  any  cost,  to  prevent  the  delivery  of 
the  speech. 

The  streets  were  placarded  with  abusive  and  scurrilous  pla- 
cards, often  posted  over  the  notices  of  the  meeting,  couched  in 
the  most  inflammatory  language,  urging  that  "  Englishmen  see 
that  he  gets  the  welcome  he  deserves."  On  the  morning  of  the 
1 6th  the  leading  papers  came  out  with  violent  editorials  against 
Mr.  Beecher,  full  of  falsehoods  and  misquotations  from  his 
speeches.  Every  art  was  resorted  to  to  work  the  passion  of  the 
mob  up  to  the  point  of  violence. 

We  quote  a  brief  extract  from  the  Liverpool  Courier  of  that 
date  : 

"The  visit  of  Mr.  Henry  Ward  Beecher  to  Liverpool  to-night 
is  not  likely  to  do  the  Federal  cause  much  service  in  this  neigh- 
borhood. His  views  on  slavery  are  too  violent  and  unreasonable 
to  meet  with  much  favor  from  thoughtful  people ;  and  even  those 
who  earnestly  desire  the  freedom  of  the  Southern  slaves  would 
not  consent  to  adopt  the  extreme,  sanguinary  principles  enun- 
ciated by  Mr.  Beecher.  .  .  .  But,  apart  from  his  abolition  doc- 
trines, Mr.  Beecher,  unless  he  has  been  greatly  misrepresented, 
has  displayed  the  most  intense  hatred  of  Great  Britain,  and  has 
vilified  the  British  people  in  a  disgraceful  manner.  He  was  most 
violent  in  his  denunciations  of  England  during  the  never-to-be- 
forgotten  Trent  affair,  and  if  his  views  had  been  adopted  the 
two  great  Anglo-Saxon  peoples  would  have  been   plunged   into 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  423 

w.ir  When  he  said, 'The  best  blood  ol  England  must  flow  for 
the  outrage  England  had  perpetrated  upon  America,'  he  used 
language  unbecoming  a  man,  si  ill  more  a  professing  preacher  of 
the  G<  spel.  Vet  ihe  person  who  could  thus  insult  the  British 
u  ition  has  now  the  audacity  to  com  •  amongst  us  to  lecture  us  on 
American  politics.  Such  conduct  evidences  unbounded  im- 
pudence and  little  discretion,  and  can  only  he  explained  by  the 
assumption  that  he  is  the  accredited  emissary  of  the  Federal 
government." 

It  was  openly  declared  that  if  he  should  dare  to  address  the 
meeting  he  would  never  leave  the  hall  alive — a  threat  believed  to 
have  been  sincerely  made,  with  the  fullest  intention  of  fulfilment. 
The  friends  of  Mr.  Beecher  were  greatly  alarmed,  many  advis- 
ing him  not  to  attend  the  meeting. 

He  was  fully  conscious  of  the  risk  that  he  ran,  and  knew  that 
to  be  present  was  to  carry  his  life  in  his  hand.  During  the  whole 
day  he  was  under  the  shadow  of  a  black  cloud.  He  was  plunged 
into  the  depths  of  despondency.  He  was  going  to  the  meeting,  but 
would  he  leave  it  alive?  Could  he  make  himself  heard?  Must 
lie  fail  now  that  he  was  on  the  very  verge  of  success  ?  These 
and  similarly  anxious  thoughts  tormented  him  throughout  the  day. 
No  light  illumined  the  darkness  of  his  soul  until,  having  left  the 
hotel,  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  hall  ;  then,  he  says,  suddenly  a 
great  light  burst  in  upon  him,  and,  night  though  it  was,  it  seemed 
as  if  the  whole  heavens  blazed  with  light  like  the  noonday. 
Fears  and  anxious  doubts  disappeared  like  mists  before  the 
morning  sun.  A  great  peace  settled  down  upon  him,  and  as  he 
entered  the  hall  he  was  filled  with  the  certainty  of  succeeding. 

It  was  well  known  that  the  mob  was  armed  ;  it  was  not  so 
well  known  that  a  small  but  determined  band  of  young  men, 
occupying  a  commanding  position  to  the  right  of  the  platform, 
were  also  armed,  determined,  if  any  dangerous  outbreak  occurred, 
to  protect  Mr.  Beecher  at  all  hazards.  Mr.  Beecher  himself 
was  in  ignorance  of  the  fact  until  some  days  later.  Happily 
nothing  more  serious  than  noise  was  developed,  the  cool  and 
determined  appearance  of  the  speaker  and  the  earnest  demonstra- 
tion by  the  majority  present  seeming  to  discourage  a  resort  to 
violence. 

The  speech  was  devoted  to  a  discussion  of  the  relation  of 
slavery  to   commerce,  showing   that,  in   the  long   run,  it  was   as 


424  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

hostile  both  to  commerce  and  manufactures  the  world  over  as  it 
was  to  free  interests  in  human  society  ;  that  a  slave  nation  must 
be  a  poor  customer,  buying  the  poorest  and  fewest  goods,  and  the 
least  profitable  to  the  producers  ;  that  it  was  the  interest  of  every 
manufacturing  country  to  promote  freedom,  intelligence,  and 
wealth  amongst  all  nations  ;  that  the  attempt  to  cover  the  fairest 
portion  of  the  globe  with  a  slave  population  that  buys  nothing 
and  a  degraded  white  population  that  buys  next  to  nothing,  should 
array  against  it  every  political  economist  and  every  thoughtful 
and  far-seeing  manufacturer,  as  tending  to  strike  at  the  vital 
wants  of  commerce,  which  was  not  cotton  but  rich  customers. 

It  would  be  impossible  for  tongue  or  pen  adequately  to  de- 
scribe the  scenes  at  the  meeting.  The  great  hall  was  packed  to 
the  crushing  point.  The  mob  was  out  in  force,  with  lungs  in 
good  working  order  and  a  disposition  to  use  them  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. 

Manchester  and  Glasgow  were  love-feasts  in  comparison. 

We  give  an  attempt  at  description  from  one  of  the  Liverpool 
papers  : 

M  For  several  days  before  the  meeting  it  was  understood  that 
efforts  would  be  made  to  create  a  disturbance. 

"  For  some  moments  before  the  time  fixed  for  the  commence- 
ment of  the  proceedings,  cat-calls,  groans,  cheers,  hisses,  etc., 
were  freely  indulged  in,  and  it  was  evident  that  a  strong  force  of 
the  pro-Southern  (or  at  least  of  the  anti-Beecher)  party  had  con- 
gregated in  front  of  the  gallery  and  at  the  lower  end  of  the  body 
of  the  hall.  The  debut  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Beecher  was,  judging 
from  the  frequently  manifested  impatience  of  the  audience, 
awaited  with  intense  interest.  Several  occupants  of  seats  in  the 
upper  gallery  loudly  insisted  upon  somebody  bringing  him  out ; 
and  when  the  reverend  gentleman  did  step  on  the  platform,  the 
enthusiasm  of  his  friends  and  the  indignation  of  his  opponents 
were  almost  indescribable.  Cheer  rolled  after  cheer  with  deaf- 
ening effect,  and,  in  the  brief  pauses  between  each  hurrah,  hisses 
fell  upon  the  ear  with  a  sound  like  that  of  a  falling  torrent.  The 
uproar  was  maintained  so  long  that  the  chairman,  Mr.  Robertson, 
determined  not  to  await  the  abatement  of  the  storm,  but  to  try  to 
subdue  it  by  a  few  judicious  words.  He  was  only  partly  success- 
ful until  he  appealed  to  the  audience  as  Englishmen  to  stand  up 
for  fair  play  and  not  to  withhold  justice  from  a  stranger. 


.  .,  )     WARD   BEECHER 


4*5 


"Mr.  Beecher's  introduction  surprised  though  it  did  not  dis- 
concert that  gentleman.    He  was  evidently  prepared  for  some  op- 
tion ;  but  he  could  hardly  have  expei  \^(\  that  his  appearam  e 

at  the  front  of  the  platform,  would  rouse  One  portion  of  the  audi- 
ence to  a  high  state  of  enthusiasm,  and  cause  the  other  portion  to 
approach  almost  a  state  ^\  frenzy.  For  some  time  it  was  doubtful 
whether  the  celebrated  Abolitionist  would  be  allowed  t<>  speak  ; 
but  tho^e  who  sat  near  the  reverend  gentleman,  and  observed  his 
firmly-compressed  lips  and  imperturbable  demeanor,  saw  at  once 
that  it  would  require  something  more  than  noise  and  spasmodic 
hisses  to  cause  Mr.  Beecher  to  lose  heart.  He  stood  calmly  at 
the  edge  of  the  platform,  a  representation  of  '  patience  smiling  at 
grief,'  and  a  simile  of  sincerity,  battling  tacitly  but  successfully 
with  opposition.  One  of  the  two  must  sooner  or  later  give  way, 
and  no  one  who  scrutinized  Mr.  Beecher's  features  could  imagine 
that  he  would  be  the  first  to  become  tired.  At  last  there  was  a 
lull  ;  clergymen  and  ladies  ceased  to  wave  their  umbrellas  and 
handkerchiefs,  the  torrent  of  hisses  became  less  perceptible,  and 
the  chairman  made  another  appeal  to  the  meeting  for  fair  play 
to  Mr.  Beecher.  His  assurance  that  an  opportunity  would  be 
offered,  after  Mr.  Beecher  had  concluded  his  address,  to  persons 
who  wished  to  ask  the  reverend  gentleman  questions,  was  not 
very  favorably  received,  and  a  series  of  disturbances  ensued. 
Cries  of  'Turn  him  out!'  were  heard  in  various  parts  of  the 
hall,  and  efforts  were  made  to  eject  some  members  of  the  unruly 
party.  When  the  scuffling  had  partly  subsided,  the  chairman  ex- 
pressed his  determination  to  preserve  order  by  calling  in,  if  nec- 
essary, the  aid  of  the  police.  This  announcement  produced 
something  like  order,  and  Mr.  Beecher  took  up  the  advantage 
and  commenced  his  address.  The  interruptions  were  incessant, 
while  a  scene  prevailed  the  equal  of  which  has  seldom  been  wit- 
nessed in  Liverpool.  'Three  cheers  for  Jeff.  Davis  ! '  wras  a  pro- 
posal which  once  more  met  with  a  hearty  response  from  a  por- 
tion of  the  audience  ;  and  as  the  admirers  of  the  Confederate 
President  were  loath  to  cease  their  expressions  of  approval,  Mr. 
Beecher  composedly  sat  down  on  the  low  parapet  of  the  platform 
and  awaited  a  calm,  at  the  same  time  apologizing  to  the  reporters 
for  causing  them  to  be  so  long  detained.  At  one  time,  about  a 
score  of  persons  were  speaking  in  various  parts  of  the  hall,  and 
Mr.  Beecher,  as  a  last  resource,  said  that  if  the  meeting  would 


426  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

not  hear  him  he  would  address  the  reporters.  From  the  gallery 
were  suspended  placards  on  which  the  words,  '  Who  is  Henry 
Ward  Beecher?'  were  conspicuous;  and,  taken  all  in  all,  the 
scene  was  one  of  complete  disorder.  Mr.  Beecher  repeatedly 
declared  that  it  was  not  new  to  him  ;  but  he  admitted  that  his 
struggle  for  an  hour  and  a  half  against  the  prevailing  disorder 
had  caused  his  voice  to  fail.  So  far,  indeed,  had  his  voice  suf- 
fered that  he  was  compelled,  in  concluding,  to  declare  that  he 
could  not  answer  any  questions  unless  perfect  order  prevailed. 
He  did  reply,  in  comparative  peace,  to  one  or  two  written  inter- 
rogatories ;  but,  the  disturbance  being  renewed,  Mr.  Beecher  sat 
down." 

A  few  quotations  from  this  speech  will  not  only  give  an  idea 
of  the  line  of  Mr.  Beecher's  argument,  but,  by  retaining  the  inter- 
ruptions as  indicated  by  the  reports  in  the  next  day's  papers,  will 
also  to  some  extent  show  the  conditions  under  which  the  speech 
was  delivered. 

"  For  more  than  twenty-five  years  I  have  been  made  perfectly 
familiar  with  popular  assemblies  in  all  parts  of  my  country  except 
the  extreme  South.  There  has  not  for  the  whole  of  that  time 
been  a  single  day  of  my  life  when  it  would  have  been  safe  for  me 
to  go  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line  in  my  own  country,  and 
all  for  one  reason  :  my  solemn,  earnest,  persistent  testimony 
against  that  which  I  consider  to  be  the  most  atrocious  thing  un- 
der the  sun — the  system  of  American  slavery  in  a  great,  free 
republic.  [Cheers.]  I  have  passed  through  that  early  period 
when  right  of  free  speech  was  denied  to  me.  Again  and  again  I 
have  attempted  to  address  audiences  that,  for  no  other  crime 
than  that  of  free  speech,  visited  me  with  all  manner  of  con- 
tumelious epithets ;  and  now  since  I  have  been  in  England, 
although  I  have  met  with  greater  kindness  and  courtesy  on  the 
part  of  most  than  I  deserved,  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  I  perceive 
that  the  Southern  influence  prevails  to  some  extent  in  England. 
[Applause  and  uproar.]  It  is  my  old  acquaintance;  I  understand 
it  perfectly  [laughter],  and  I  have  always  held  it  to  be  an  unfailing 
truth  that  where  a  man  had  a  cause  that  would  bear  examination 
he  was  perfectly  willing  to  have  it  spoken  about.  [Applause.] 
And  when  in  Manchester  I  saw  those  huge  placards,  'Who  is 
Henry  Ward  Beecher?'  [laughter,  cries  of  'Quite  right,'  and 
applause],  and  when  in  Liverpool  I  was  told  that  there  were  those 


Y  ward  lu.i-.aii.R.  427 

blood-red  placards,  purporting  to  sa)  what  Henry  Ward  Beei  her 

had  said,  and  calling  upon  Englishmen  to  suppress  tree  speech — 
I  tell  you  what  I  thought  ;  I  thought  simply  this  :  'I  am  glad  of 
it.'  [Laughter.  I  Why?  Because  if  they  had  felt  perfectly  secure 
that  you  are  the  minions  of  the  South  and  the  slaves  of  slavery, 
they  would  have  been  perfectly  still.  [Applause  and  uproar.] 
.  .  .  And,  therefore,  when  I  saw  so  much  nervous  apprehen- 
sion that  if  1  were  permitted  to  speak  [hisses  and  applause] — 
when  I  found  they  were  afraid  to  have  me  speak  [hisses,  laugh- 
ter, and  '  No,  no  '  ]  ;  when  I  found  that  they  considered  my 
king  damaging  to  their  cause  [applause]  ;  when  I  found 
that  they  appealed  from  facts  and  reasonings  to  mob  law  [ap- 
plause and  uproar],  I  said  :  No  man  need  tell  me  what  the  heart 
and  secret  counsel  of  these  men  are.  They  tremble  and  are 
afraid.  [Applause,  laughter,  hisses,  'No,  no,'  and  a  voice: 
'  New  York  mob.']  Now,  personally,  it  is  a  matter  of  very  little 
consequence  to  me  whether  I  speak  here  to-night  or  not.  [Laughter 
and  cheers.]  But  one  thing  is  very  certain — if  you  do  permit  me 
to  speak  here  to-night  you  will  hear  very  plain  talking.  [Applause 
and  hisses.]  You  will  not  find  a  man  [interruption] — you  will  not 
find  me  to  be  a  man  that  dared  to  speak  about  Great  Britain  3,000 
miles  off,  and  then  is  afraid  to  speak  to  Great  Britain  when  he  stands 
on  her  shores.  [Immense  applause  and  hisses.]  And  if  I  do  not 
mistake  the  tone  and  the  temper  of  Englishmen,  they  had  rather 
have  a  man  who  opposes  them  in  a  manly  w-ay  [applause  from 
all  parts  of  the  hall]  than  a  sneak  that  agrees  with  them  in  an 
unmanly  way.  [Applause  and  'Bravo.']  Now,  if  I  can  carry 
you  with  me  by  sound  convictions,  I  shall  be  immensely  glad 
[applause]  ;  but  if  I  cannot  carry  you  with  me  by  facts  and 
sound  arguments,  I  do  not  wish  you  to  go  with  me  at  all ;  and  all 
that  I  ask  is  simply  fair  plav.  [Applause,  and  a  voice  :  'You 
shall  have  it,  too.']  Those  of  you  who  are  kind  enough  to  wish 
to  favor  my  speaking — and  you  will  observe  that  my  voice  is 
slightly  husky,  from  having  spoken  almost  every  night  in  succes- 
sion for  some  time  past — those  who  wish  to  hear  me  will  do  me  the 
kindness  simply  to  sit  still  and  to  keep  still;  and  I  and  my  friends 
the  Secessionists  will  make  all  the  noise.  It  is  just  as  important 
to  have  customers  educated,  intelligent,  moral,  and  rich  out  of 
Liverpool  as  it  is  in  Liverpool.  [Applause.]  They  are  able  to 
buy  ;  they  want  variety,  they  want  the  very  best  ;  and  those  are 


428  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

the  customers  you  want.  That  nation  is  the  best  customer  that 
is  freest,  because  freedom  works  prosperity,  industry,  and  wealth. 
Great  Britain,  then,  aside  from  moral  considerations,  has  a  direct 
commercial  and  pecuniary  interest  in  the  liberty,  civilization,  and 
wealth  of  every  people  and  every  nation  on  the  globe.  [Loud 
applause.]  You  have  also  an  interest  in  this,  because  you  are  a 
moral  and  a  religious  people.  ['  Oh!  oh! '  laughter,  and  applause.] 
You  desire  it  from  the  highest  motives  ;  and  godliness  is  profita- 
ble in  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the  life  that  is,  as  well  as 
of  that  which  is  to  come  ;  but  if  there  were  no  hereafter,  and  if 
man  had  no  progress  in  this  life,  and  if  there  were  no  question  of 
civilization  at  all,  it  would  be  worth  your  while  to  protect  civiliza- 
tion and  liberty,  merely  as  a  commercial  speculation.  To  evan- 
gelize has  more  than  a  moral  and  religious  import — it  conies  back 
to  temporal  relations.  Wherever  a  nation  that  is  crushed, 
cramped,  degraded  under  despotism  is  struggling  to  be  free,  you, 
Leeds,  Sheffield,  Manchester,  Paisley,  all  have  an  interest  that 
that  nation  should  be  free.  When  depressed  and  backward  peo- 
ple demand  that  they  may  have  a  chance  to  rise — Hungary,  Italy, 
Poland — it  is  a  duty  for  humanity's  sake,  it  is  a  duty  for  the 
highest  moral  motives,  to  sympathize  with  them  ;  but  beside  all 
these  there  is  a  material  and  interested  reason  why  you  should 
sympathize  with  them.  Pounds  and  pence  join  with  conscience 
and  with  honor  in  this  design.  Now,  Great  Britain's  chief  want 
is — what  ?  They  have  said  that  your  chief  want  is  cotton.  I  deny 
it.  Your  chief  want  is  consumers.  [Applause  and  hisses.]  .  .  . 
Now,  there  is  in  this  a  great  and  sound  principle  of  political 
economy.  ['  Yah  !  yah  !  '  from  the  passage  outside  the  hall,  and 
loud  laughter.]  If  the  South  should  be  rendered  independent — 
[at  this  juncture  mingled  cheering  and  hisses  became  immense  ; 
half  the  audience  rose  to  their  feet,  waving  hats  and  handker- 
chiefs, and  in  every  part  of  the  hall  there  was  the  greatest  com- 
motion and  uproar.]  You  have  had  your  turn  now  ;  now  let  me 
have  mine  again.  [Loud  applause  and  laughter.]  It  is  a  little 
inconvenient  to  talk  against  the  wind  ;  but,  after  all,  if  you  will 
just  keep  good-natured — I  am  not  going  to  lose  my  temper  ;  will 
you  watch  yours?  [Applause.]  Besides  all  that,  it  rests  me, 
and  gives  me  a  chance,  you  know,  to  get  my  breath.  [Applause 
and  hisses.]  And  I  think  that  the  bark  of  those  men  is  worse 
than  their  bite.     Thev  do  not  mean  anv  harm — thev  don't  know 


A'/:r.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  42c) 

any  better.  [Loud  laughter,  applause,  hisses,  and  continued  up- 
roar.] What  will  be  the  result  it  this  present  struggle  shall 
eventuate  in  the  separation   of  America,  and    making  the  South 

[loud  applause,  hisses,  hooting,  and  cries  of  'Bravo  !  ']  a  slave 
territory  exclusively  [cries  of  '  No,  no,'  and  laughter],  and  the 
North  a  free  territory — what  will  be  the  first  result?  You  will 
lay  the  foundation  for  carrying  the  slave  population  clear  through 
to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  There  is  not  a  man  that  has  been  a  leader 
of  the  South  any  time  within  these  twenty  years  that  has  not  had 
thi>  for  a  plan.  Never  have  they  for  a  moment  given  up  the  plan 
of  spreading  the  American  institutions,  as  they  call  them,  straight 
through  towards  the  West,  until  the  slave  who  has  washed  his 
feet  in  the  Atlantic  shall  be  carried  to  wash  them  in  the  Pacific. 
[Cries  of  'Question!'  and  uproar.]  There!  I  have  got  that 
statement  out,  and  you  cannot  put  it  back.  [Laughter  and  ap- 
plause.] .  .  .  Now,  here  are  twelve  millions  of  people,  and  only 
one-third  of  them  are  customers  that  can  afford  to  buy  the  kind 
of  goods  that  you  bring  to  market.  [Interruption  and  uproar.] 
My  friends,  I  saw  a  man  once,  who  was  a  little  late  at  a  railway 
station,  chase  an  express-train.  He  did  not  catch  it.  [Laughter.] 
If  you  are  going  to  stop  this  meeting  you  have  got  to  stop  it  be- 
fore I  speak  ;  for  after  I  have  got  the  things  out  you  may  chase 
as  long  as  you  please — you  will  not  catch  them.  [Laughter 
and  interruption.]  But  there  is  luck  in  leisure  ;  I'm  going  to  take 
it  easy.  [Laughter.]  Two-thirds  of  the  population  of  the 
Southern  States  to-day  are  non-purchasers  of  English  goods.  [A 
voice,  '  No,  they  are  not,'  '  No,  no,'  and  uproar.]  And  if  by 
sympathy  or  help  you  establish  a  slave  empire,  you  sagacious 
Britons  ['Oh!  oh  !'  and  hooting] — if  you  like  it  better,  then,  I 
will  leave  the  adjective  out  [laughter,  hear,  and  applause] — you 
will  be  busy  in  favoring  the  establishment  of  an  empire  from 
ocean  to  ocean  that  should  have  fewest  customers  and  the  largest 
non-buying  population.  [Applause;  'No,  no.']  .  .  .  It  was  the 
South  that  obliged  the  North  to  put  the  tariff  on.  [Applause 
and  uproar.]  Just  as  soon  as  we  begin  to  have  peace  again  and 
can  get  our  national  debt  into  a  proper  shape,  as  you  have  got 
yours  [laughter],  the  same  cause  that  worked  before  will  begin 
to  work  again  ;  and  there  is  nothing  more  certain  in  the  future 
than  that  the  American  is  bound  to  join  with  Great  Britain  in  the 
world-wide  doctrine  of  free-trade.     [Applause  and  interruption.] 


430  BIOGRAPHY  Of 

Here,  then,  so  far  as  this  argument  is  concerned,  I  rest  my  case, 
saying  that  it  seems  to  me  that  in  an  argument  addressed  to  a 
commercial  people  it  was  perfectly  fair  to  represent  that  their 
commercial  and  manufacturing  interests  tallied  with  their  moral 
sentiments  ;  and  as  by  birth,  by  blood,  by  history,  by  moral  feel- 
ing, and  by  everything,  Great  Britain  is  connected  with  the  liberty 
of  the  world,  God  has  joined  interest  and  conscience,  head  and 
heart,  so  that  you  ought  to  be  in  favor  of  liberty  everywhere. 
[Great  applause.]  There  !  I  have  got  quite  a  speech  out  al- 
ready, if  I  do  not  get  any  more.  [Hisses  and  applause.]  .  .  . 
"  It  is  said  that  the  North  is  fighting  for  Union,  and  not  for 
emancipation.  The  North  is  fighting  for  Union,  because  we 
never  shall  forget  the  testimony  of  our  enemies.  They  have  gone 
off  declaring  that  the  Union  in  the  hands  of  the  North  was  fatal 
to  slavery.  [Loud  applause.]  There  is  testimony  in  court  for 
you.  [A  voice,  '  See  that,'  and  laughter.]  We  are  fighting  for 
the  Union,  because  we  believe  that  preamble  which  explains  the 
very  reason  for  which  the  Union  was  constituted.  I  will  read  it. 
'  We  ' — not  the  States — '  We,  the  people  of  the  United  States,  in 
order  to  form  a  more  perfect  nation  '  [uproar] — I  don't  wonder 
you  don't  want  to  hear  it  [laughter] — '  in  order  to  form  a  more 
perfect  nation,  establish  justice,  assure  domestic  tranquillity  [up- 
roar], provide  for  the  common  defence,  promote  the  general  wel- 
fare, and  secure  the  blessings  of  liberty  ['oh  !  oh  !']  to  ourselves 
and  our  posterity,  ordain  and  establish  this  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  of  America.'  [A  voice:  'How  many  States?'] 
It  is  for  the  sake  of  that  justice,  that  common  welfare,  and  that 
liberty  for  which  the  National  Union  was  established,  that  we 
fight  for  the  Union.  [Interruption.]  Because  the  South  believ- 
ed that  the  Union  was  against  slavery,  they  left  it.  [Renewed  in- 
terruption.] Gentlemen,  I  have  travelled  in  the  West  ten  or 
twelve  hours  at  a  time  in  the  mud  knee-deep.  It  was  hard  toil- 
ing my  way,  but  I  always  got  through  my  journey.  I  feel  to- 
night as  though  I  were  travelling  over  a  very  muddy  road  ;  but  I 
think  I  shall  get  through.  [Cheers.]  ...  In  the  first  place,  I 
am  ashamed  to  confess  that  such  was  the  thoughtlessness  [inter- 
ruption], such  was  the  stupor  of  the  North  [renewed  interruption] 
— you  will  get  a  word  at  a  time  ;  to-morrow  will  let  folks  see 
what  it  is  you  don't  want  to  hear — that  for  a  period  of  twenty- 
five  years  she  went  to  sleep,  and  permitted  herself  to  be  drugged 


REV,  HENRY  WARP  BEECHBR.  431 

and  poisoned  with  the  Southern  prejudice  against  black  men. 
[Applause  and  uproar.]  .  .  .  When  I  was  twelve  years  old  my 
father  hired  Charles  Smith,  ;i  man  as  bl.u  k  as  lampblai  It,  to  work 
on  his  farm.  1  slept  with  him  in  the  same  room.  ['Oh  !  oh  !'] 
All  !  that  don't  suit  you.  |  Uproar.]  Now,  you  see,  the  South 
comes  out.  [I. oud  laughter.]  I  ate  with  him  at  the  same  table  ; 
1  sang  with  him  out  of  the  same  hymn-book  ['Good']  ;  I  cried 
when  he  prayed  over  me  at  night  ;  and  if  I  had  serious  impres- 
sions of  religion  early  in  life,  they  were  due  to  the  fidelity  and  ex- 
ample of  that  poor  humble  farmdaborer,  black  Charles  Smith. 
[  Tremendous  uproar  and  cheers.  J  .  .  .  There  is  another  fact  that 
I  wish  to  allude  to — not  for  the  sake  of  reproach  or  blame,  but 
by  way  of  claiming  your  more  lenient  consideration — and  that  is, 
that  slavery  was  entailed  upon  us  by  your  action.  [Hear,  hear.] 
Against  the  earnest  protests  of  the  colonists  the  then  government 
of  Great  Britain — I  will  concede  not  knowing  what  were  the  mis- 
chiefs— ignorantly,  but  in  point  of  fact,  forced  slave-traffic  on  the 
unwilling  colonists.  [Great  uproar,  in  the  midst  of  which  one 
individual  was  lifted  up  and  carried  out  of  the  room  amidst  cheers 
and  hisses.]  .  .  .  We  do  not  agree  with  the  recent  doctrine  of 
neutrality  as  a  question  of  law.  But  it  is  past,  and  we  are  not 
disposed  to  raise  that  question.  We  accept  it  now  as  a  fact,  and 
we  say  that  the  utterance  of  Lord  Russell  at  Blairgowrie  [ap- 
plause, hisses,  and  a  voice,  'What  about  Lord  Brougham?'], 
together  with  the  declaration  of  the  government  in  stopping  war- 
steamers  here  [great  uproar  and  applause],  has  gone  far  towards 
quieting  every  fear  and  removing  every  apprehension  from  our 
minds.  [Uproar  and  shouts  of  applause.]  And  now  in  the  fu- 
ture it  is  the  work  of  every  good  man  and  patriot  not  to  create 
divisions,  but  to  do  the  things  that  will  make  for  peace.  ['  Oh  ! 
oh  !'  and  laughter.]  On  our  part  it  shall  be  done.  [Applause 
and  hisses,  and  'No,  no.']  On  your  part  it  ought  to  be  done  ; 
and  when,  in  any  of  the  convulsions  that  come  upon  the  world, 
Great  Britain  finds  herself  struggling  single-handed  against  the 
gigantic  powers  that  spread  oppression  and  darkness  [applause, 
hisses,  and  uproar],  there  ought  to  be  such  cordiality  that  she  can 
turn  and  say  to  her  first-born  and  most  illustrious  child,  '  Come  ! ' 
[Hear,  hear,  applause,  tremendous  cheers,  and  uproar.]  I  will 
not  say  that  England  cannot  again,  as  hitherto,  single-handed 
manage  any  power  [applause  and   uproar]  ;  but    I   will    say   that 


432 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


England  and  America  together  for  religion  and  liberty  [a  voice, 
'Soap,  soap,'  uproar,  and  great  applause]  are  a  match  for  the 
world.  [Applause  ;  a  voice,  '  They  don't  want  any  more  soft 
soap.']  " 

Thus  in  the  wildest  confusion,  little  by  little,  a  few  sentences 
at  a  time,  the  speech  was  delivered.  P'or  nearly  three  hours  the 
fight  was  kept  up,  until  at  last  the  speech  was  done.  Although 
the  mob  was  not  quieted — it  did  not  come  there  for  that  purpose 
— yet  the  speech  was  delivered,  and,  what  was  more  to  the  point, 
was  printed  verbatim  in  the  morning's  papers.  The  mob  wholly 
failed  to  accomplish  their  object.  It  did  not  break  down  Mr. 
Beecher. 

Four  days  later  the  concluding  speech  of  the  series  was  to  be 
delivered  at  Exeter  Hall,  London.  The  great  metropolis  was  the 
centre  of  political  thought  and  influence.  It  was  of  great  im- 
portance that  the  London  speech  should  be  a  success,  and  to 
that  end  that  the  speaker  should  be  in  good  condition  himself. 

But  the  constant  strain  upon  his  voice  in  his  efforts  to  be 
heard  in  the  first  three  speeches,  culminating  in  the  prolonged 
struggle  at  Liverpool,  where  his  strength  had  been  taxed  to  the 
uttermost,  had  at  last  gone  beyond  even  his  powers  of  endur- 
ance. The  day  before  the  London  speech  his  voice  failed  him  ; 
by  night  he  could  not  speak'  above  a  whisper.  Voiceless,  he  was 
helpless.  When  he  first  realized  the  truth  he  was  for  a  moment 
overwhelmed.  To  fail  in  London  was,  in  very  large  measure, 
to  lose  the  ground  so  hardly  gained. 

"  I  felt  all  day  Monday  that  I  was  coming  to  London  to  speak 
to  a  public  audience,  but  my  voice  was  gone  ;  and  I  felt  as 
though  about  to  be  made  a  derision  to  my  enemies,  to  stand  up 
before  a  multitude  and  be  unable  to  say  a  word.  It  would  have 
been  a  mortification  to  any  one's  natural  pride.  I  asked  God  to 
restore  me  my  voice,  as  a  child  would  ask  its  father  to  grant  it  a 
favor.  But  I  hoped  that  God  would  grant  me  His  grace  to  en- 
able me,  if  it  was  necessary  for  the  cause  that  I  should  be  put  to 
open  shame,  to  stand  up  as  a  fool  before  the  audience.  I  said  : 
'  Lord,  Thou  knowest  this.     Let  it  be  as  Thou  wilt.'  " 

Rest  being  of  the  first  importance,  he  retired  early,  and,  hav- 
ing wrapped  his  throat  in  wet  bandages,  dismissed  all  further 
thought  of  the  morrow  and  slept. 

In  the  morning  waking  refreshed,  the  first  thought  that  came 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH LR.  433 

to  him  was,  "Can  I  speak?"  For  a  while  he  lay  silent,  fearing 
the  attempt.  First  he  tried  a  low  whisper,  then  louder,  finally 
spoke  out.  His  voice  had  returned,  not  in  its  old  strength,  yet 
Strong  enough  to  use.  Now  his  exaltation  was  as  great  as  twelve 
hours  before  had  been  his  depression. 

The  night  came,  .\nd  with  it  increased  strength,  fully  suffi- 
cient for  the  work  before  him. 

In  this  spee<  h  slavery  was  discussed  in  its  moral  relations. 
Of  the  meeting  we  quote  briefly  from  the  published  account  of 
an  eye-witness  : 

"In  the  five  great  speeches  which  Mr.  Beecher  has  made  in 
1  Jand  and  Scotland  on  the  American  question,  before  vast 
audiences,  he  has  taken  care  to  observe  a  system  of  selection 
which  has  brought  before  the  country  all  the  great  salient  points 
of  the  American  war.  He  has  not  repeated  himself,  but  met  the 
Confederate  sympathizers  here,  upon  every  field  which  they  had 
chosen  for  their  own  advantage.  But  the  grand  climax  of  all  his 
efforts  was  that  which  was  made  at  Exeter  Hall  last  night,  before 
a  crowd  as  great  as  ever  gathered  into  that  immense  hall,  and 
which,  despite  the  persistent  efforts  of  the  opposition  to  destroy 
the  meeting  and  its  effect,  made  a  mark  upon  English  opinion 
which  must  prove  of  the  utmost  importance. 

u  Mr.  Beecher's  strokes  in  other  cities  of  the  kingdom  having 
invariably  drawn  blood  from  the  hides  of  the  Confederate  sym- 
pathizers here,  it  was  plain  that  they  had  determined  to  meet 
with  yells  and  uproar  what  they  could  not  meet  with  argument. 
That  an  organized  opposition  was  contemplated  was  not  con- 
cealed. During  all  yesterday,  posters  were  scattered  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  city,  making  all  kinds  of  charges  of  a 
personal  character  against  him,  abounding  in  fictitious  and  dis- 
torted quotations  from  discourses  and  lectures  delivered  by  him 
in  old  times.  It  had  been  considered  of  prime  importance  to  the 
Confederate  cause  here  that  Lord  Russell's  assertion  at  Blair- 
gowrie, that  the  moral  sympathies  of  the  English  people  were 
adverse  to  the  Southern  cause,  should  be  disproved  ;  and  it  was 
hoped,  through  personal  assaults  upon  Mr.  Beecher,  to  injure 
the  effect  of  the  meeting,  and  then  claim  it  in  as  the  verdict  of 
London  in  favor  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

"  At  an  early  hour  the  hall  was  crowded  to  overflowing,  and 
there  was  evidence,  too,  that  they  were  orderly  men  and  women, 


434  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

who,  whether  sympathizing  with  the  North  or  not,  had  come  to 
hear  a  fair  discussion  of  the  question  which  concerns  all,  and 
were  determined  to  secure  fair  play.  The  crowd  outside  in  the 
Strand  and  Exeter  Street  was  enormous,  and  consisted  chiefly  of 
the  opposition.  One  of  the  committee  came  in  smilingly,  and 
said  :  '  Our  shilling  admission-fee  has  filtered  the  crowd.  The 
Southern  sympathizer  is  always  a  man  who  looks  hard  at  a  shil- 
ling before  he  parts  with  it,  and  then  don't  part  with  it.'  Yet  it 
was  known  that  in  two  or  three  sections  of  the  house  there  were 
parties  who  meant  mischief. 

"  When  Beecher  arose  there  were  five  minutes  of  the  most 
tremendous  cheering  that  I  have  ever  witnessed.  Wave  after 
wave,  as  of  a  tumultuous  sea  of  sound,  came  thundering  up  from 
the  gallery  at  one  end  to  the  organ  at  the  other,  in  the  midst  of 
which  stood  Mr.  Beecher,  calm  as  a  rock  in  the  midst  of  the 
surges.  A  hiss  was  then  begun,  but  at  his  first  word  it  sank 
back  into  the  diaphragms  of  those  who  uttered  or  meant  to  utter 
it.  The  first  glance  and  the  self-possessed  manner  of  the  man 
told  plainly  that  he  had  something  to  say  in  Exeter  Hall  that 
night,   and  that  he  meant  to  be  heard. 

"  Mr.  Beecher's  voice  was  scarcely  as  sonorous  and  clear  as 
it  usually  is,  and  all  recognized  that  this  was  natural  after  the 
many  speeches  in  immense  halls  which  he  had  given  during  the 
week.  '  I  expect  to  be  hoarse,'  he  said,  '  and  I  am  willing  to  be 
hoarse  if  I  can  in  any  way  assist  to  bring  the  mother  and  daugh- 
ter heart  to  heart  and  hand  to  hand  together.'  This  sentiment 
was  received  with  great  applause  ;  and  Beecher's  hoarseness  was 
thus  impressed  to  the  service  of  his  cause.  But  he  so  econo- 
mized his  voice  that  every  word  was  distinctly  heard  by  the  vast 
assembly.  And  I  assure  you  that  every  word  was  freighted  ;  in 
the  day  when  men  are  called  to  give  an  account  for  every  idle 
word  spoken,  Mr.  Beecher  will  not  be  confronted  by  any  one 
uttered  last  night  at  Exeter  Hall.  At  one  time,  when  there  was 
an  interval  of  a  few  moments  arising  from  the  effort  of  the  hisses 
to  triumph  over  the  cheers,  Mr.  Beecher,  with  a  quiet  smile, 
said :  '  Friends,  I  thank  you  for  this  interruption  ;  it  gives  me  a 
chance  to  rest.'  The  hisses  thereupon  died  away,  and  had  no 
resurrection  during  the  evening.  It  was  evident,  indeed,  that 
the  speaker,  who  knows  a  thing  or  two  about  audiences,  felt  that 
the  meeting  was    his  and    t h •?. t  no  interruption  would    succeed. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER*  435 

Rut  many  of  his  friends  had  serious  apprehensions.  One  of  the 
editors  of  the  Stary  himself  a  distinguished  speaker,  and  tho- 
roughly acquainted  with  English  audiences,  who  sat  near  to  me, 
whispered  m  my  ear  :  'There  are  a  great  many  here  who  do  not 
cheer  ;  there  is  a  strong  chance  of  a  row  yet  ;  but  the  meeting 
is  just  in  such  a  condition  that  its  result  will  depend  upon  the 
power  and  equanimity  of  the  speaker.'  'Then,'  I  replied,  ' you 
needn't  fear.'  If  Mr.  Beecher  had  heard  our  brief  whispers  he- 
could  not  have  more  distinctly  appreciated  the  remark  of  the 
editor.  At  that  moment,  although  he  had  been  interesting  all 
along,  he  suddenly  stepped  one  side  from  the  desk  upon  which 
his  notes  lay,  and  his  face  gleamed  like  a  sword  leaping  from  a 
scabbard.  Xo  more  hisses,  no  more  cheers,  now  for  half  an 
hour  ;  the  audience  is  magnetized,  breathless  ;  when  the  first  pause 
came,  a  Sir  Somebody,  sitting  behind  me,  said,  '  Why,  he  looked 
at  first  like  a  heavy  man,  but  he's  got  wings  ' ;  whilst  a  reporter 
near  our  feet  whispered  audibly  to  a  brother  writer,  '  Oh  !  but 
he  can  put  things  ! '  Mr.  Beecher  forgot  all  things  but  his  sub- 
ject ;  his  tongue  burned  with  Hying  coals  ;  his  arm  pointed  like 
a  prophet's  rod,  The  shams  of  our  enemies  in  England  ;  their 
talk  of  peace  when  they  mean  every  kind  of  bloodshed  except 
that  which  is  for  justice — '  the  aspect  of  a  lamb  with  the  voice  of 
a  dragon,'  as  St.  John  saw  it  ;  their  cant  about  emancipation 
being  not  a  principle  with  Mr.  Lincoln,  but  only  an  expedient,  as 
if  that  would  make  liberty  any  less  a  prize  to  the  slave  and 
humanity  if  they  got  it — all  these  collapsed  palpably  before  the 
masses  then  gathered,  and  all  the  fine  points  of  Roebuck  and 
Lindsay  became  toads  under  the  touch  of  his  flame-tipped  spear. 

'"  This  cannot  go  on,'  whispered  a  clergyman  near  ;  'these 
strokes  draw  too  much  blood  ;  the  victim  is  writhing  in  pain 
now.' 

*'  Again  did  Mr.  Beecher  level  his  lance  ;  it  was  at  those  who 
were  making  capital  out  of  what  they  call  '  American  sympathy 
with  the  oppressor  of  Poland.'  Nothing  could  exceed  the  droll- 
ery with  which,  almost  blushing,  he  presented  the  loving  and 
jealous  maiden  who,  when  her  suitor  is  not  attentive  enough,  gets 
up  a  flirtation  with  some  other  man.  '  America  flirts  with  Rus- 
sia, but  has  her  eye  on  England.'  Xow,  the  presence  of  war- 
ships from  Russia  at  New  York  has  been  the  leading  card  of  the 
Confederates  here  in  their  game  to  win  popular  sympathy  for  the 


436  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

South  ;  for  our  friends  among  the  English  people  are  also  the 
friends  of  the  Poles.  It  was  plain  that  the  opposition  in  the 
meeting  did  not  mean  to  let  this  matter  pass  without  trying  to  get 
some  capital.  Consequently,  when  Mr.  Beecher  said,  '  But  it  is 
said  it  is  very  unworthy  that  America  should  be  flirting  with 
the  oppressor  of  Poland,'  there  were  violent  shouts,  '  Yes,  yes,' 
'  Certainly  it  is,'  etc.  Mr.  Beecher  waited  until  the  cries  had  en- 
tirely subsided,  and  a  little  time  had  been  allowed  for  friend  and 
foe  to  speculate  as  to  his  reply  ;  then,  leaning  a  little  forward,  he 
put  on  an  indescribably  simple  expression,  and  said  mildly  :  '  / 
think  so,  too.  And  now  you  know  exactly  how  we  felt  when  you 
flirted  with  Mason  at  the  lord-mayor  s  banquet.'  I  cannot  at- 
tempt to  describe  the  effect  of  these  words  on  the  throng.  The 
people  arose  with  a  shout  that  began  to  be  applause,  but  became 
a  shout  of  laughter.  The  hit  was  so  perfect  and  felicitous  that 
roars  of  hearty  laughter  told  that  that  topic  was  summed  up  for 
ever.  Three  loud  groans  given  for  the  late  lord-mayor — his 
place  is  now  filled  with  a  much  better  man — ended  that  scene, 
and  the  drama  proceeded. 

"  In  the  heart  of  Mr.  Beecher's  oration  was  given  a  denuncia- 
tion of  slavery  more  powerful  than  I  have  ever  heard  from  his 
lips.  He  scored  and  scourged  it  until  it  seemed  to  stand  before 
us  a  hideous  monster,  bloated  with  human  blood  and  writhing 
under  his  goads. 

"  Mr.  Beecher,  having  sustained  himself  throughout  better 
than  I  had  ever  known  him  to  do  before — and  I  am  pretty  famil- 
iar with  his  grand  successes  in  our  own  country — having  carried 
the  meeting  entirely  and  evoked  the  warmest  expressions  of 
good-will  to  America,  sat  down,  leaving  the  audience  hungry 
and  shouting  '  Go  on,  go  on  !  '  " 

London  was  captured  ;  the  speech  was  discussed  in  every 
parlor  and  in  every  club.  It  was  the  topic  of  the  day.  Farewell 
meetings,  veritable  love-feasts,  were  held  in  London,  Manchester, 
and  Liverpool  on  the  23d,  24th,  and  30th  of  October,  and  then 
Mr.  Beecher  sailed  for  home. 

That  these  speeches,  delivered  just  at  this  time,  in  connection 
with  the  events  at  home,  produced  a  marked  effect  cannot  be 
doubted.  They  certainly  cleared  up  many  gross  misconceptions 
that  filled  the  English  mind,  and  gave  the  English  people  a 
clearer  insight  into  the  real  purpose  of  our  government  and   the 


REV.  HENRY  il  Ah.  ff£R.  ^$j 

true  object  ol  the  South.  This  seems  to  have  been  the  judgmenl 
ol  contemporaneous  opinion.      A  prominent  English  paper  said  : 

"  Before  he  left  England  he  had  thoroughly  enlisted  the  sym- 
pathies of  the  people  with  the  cause  of  the  North  ;  and  he  had 
no  small  share  in  averting  a  collision,  which  at  one  period  of  the 
('ml  War  threatened  ominously,  between  this  country  and  the 
United  States." 

( >n  his  return  to  Brooklyn  he  was  called  to  address  two  mon- 
ster meetings  on  his  English  experiences,  one  in  Brooklyn  in  aid 
of  the  War  Fund  Committee,  and  one  in  New  York  in  aid  of 
the  United  States  Sanitary  Commission.  In  his  introductory 
speech  at  the  former,  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs  thus  eloquently  summarizes 
Mr.  Beecher's  work  abroad  : 

"  We  are  here  as  American  citizens  all,  to  welcome  one  who 
has  done  to  our  country  on  foreign  shores  a  signal  service  !  The 
rapid  and  private  trip  which  he  undertook,  simply  for  the  pur- 
poses of  rest  and  recreation,  was  transformed,  not  so  much  by 
his  own  device  or  desire  or  will  as  by  the  persistent  urgency  of 
Englishmen,  into  a  real  international  embassy  of  peace  and  good- 
will. And  by  consent  of  all  who  know,  of  all  the  interpreters, 
the  advocates,  the  champions  of  our  great  national  cause  in  Eng- 
land— of  whom  there  have  been  not  a  few  able  and  eloquent — no 
one  has  labored  more  faithfully,  zealously,  and  effectively  than 
he.  .  .  . 

u  We  may  gratefully  recognize  the  kindness  and  the  wisdom 
of  that  preceding  preparation  of  both  body  and  mind  which 
fitted  him  for  this  work.  The  rest  and  leisure  of  those  weeks 
upon  the  Continent  prepared  him  not  only  to  face  the  rough  seas 
that  have  delayed  his  return,  but  to  meet  and  master  the  more 
tempestuous  savagery  of  the  Liverpool  mob.  The  Alpine  peaks 
to  whose  summit  he  climbed  contributed,  no  doubt,  to  lift  him 
afterwards  to  the  climax  of  his  eloquence  at  London  and  at 
Manchester.  And  so  it  has  come  to  pass  that  to  him  it  is  owing, 
as  much,  perhaps,  as  to  any  other  one  man  on  either  hemisphere, 
that  the  mind  of  the  great  middle  class  in  England — which  is  the 
mind  that  in  the  last  analysis  moulds  and  governs  the  government 
of  Great  Britain — is  at  least  now  partially  informed  concerning 
the  principles  and  the  history  of  our  struggle  ;  that  the  war- 
ships framed  by  Confederate  malice  and  commercial  cupidity  to 
harass  our  commerce,  break  our  blockade,  or  desolate  our  cities, 


438  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

are  not  to  be  left  to  step  out  to  sea  through  any  loose  interpreta- 
tion of  the  law,  but  are  to  be  kept  chained  to  the  docks  and  held 
there  by  the  strong  arm  of  the  government,  and  that  stars  of 
promise  are  shining  in  the  east,  where  lately  the  thunderbolts  of 
war  seemed  to  gather." 

At  this  same  meeting  Mr.  Beecher  himself  gave  an  outline  of 
the  state  of  public  opinion  when  he  reached  England,  and  some 
estimate  of  his  own  work  in  changing  this  public  opinion  : 

"  I  desire  this  evening  to  speak  upon  that  which  you  all  have 
come  to  hear — namely,  my  impressions  and  experiences  in  re- 
spect to  the  condition  of  things  in  Great  Britain,  as  they  relate  to 
this  struggle  and  this  country. 

"  There  are  many  reasons  why  an  American  would  have  pre- 
sumed it  easy  to  understand  British  feeling  and  British  policy. 
There  was  a  similarity  of  institutions  in  England  and  America 
and  a  sameness  of  radical  principles  ;  but  that  very  similarity, 
since  it  begets,  through  different  institutions  and  different  vehi- 
cles, different  policies,  is  liable  to  deceive  us.  If  I  had  judged  of 
the  condition  of  England  from  the  impressions  produced  upon 
me  by  my  first  four  weeks'  tarry  there  in  the  summer,  I  should 
have  judged  very  wrongly.  You  are  aware  that  the  original  ex- 
pectation of  our  people  was  almost  universal  that  in  Great 
Britain  we  should  find  a' sympathizer.  One  thing  we  counted 
sure,  and  that  was  that,  if  all  the  other  nations  stood  aloof,  there 
was  one  which  would  stand  by  us  in  the  hour  of  our  peril,  and 
that  one  was  Great  Britain.  And  the  sharpness  of  our  retaliatory 
complaints  was  acuminated  by  that  very  disappointment  of  a 
very  confident  conviction.  We  never  asked  for  help.  We  never 
asked  that  she  should  lend  us  anything,  or  stretch  out  so  much 
as  the  little  finger  of  her  right  hand.  We  did  ask  simply  a  gen- 
erous confidence  and  a  generous  moral  sympathy,  and  that  was 
all.  I  found,  in  the  first  place,  on  going  there,  that  every  man  I 
met  was  a  Southern  man — not  literally  born  in  the  South,  but  this 
is  the  designation  they  have  themselves  made.  They  are  South- 
erners and  Northerners  even  more  than  we  are  here.  I  found 
that  on  the  railways,  on  the  boats,  in  the  hotels,  and  wherever 
there  was  a  travelling  public,  there  was  a  public  that  sympathized 
with  the  South  and  adverse  to  the  North. 

"  The  nobility  as  a  class  are  also  against  us,  though  there  are 
some  very  noble  exceptions. 


RIV.   HENRY   WARD   HE  EC!  U.K.  439 

"  In  Parliament,  if  a  vote  were  taken  to-da)  according  to  the 
private  thoughts,  sympathies,  and  wishes  among  its  members,  1 
suppose  they  would  vote  five  to  one  against  the  North  and  in 
favor  of  the  South.  It  is  believed,  too,  by  those  well  informed, 
that  at  least  a  portion  of  the  government  have  been  entirely  willing 
to  go  into  a  rupture  with  the  North,  and  that  but  for  the  unflinch- 
ing restraints  they  would  have  done  so  long  ago.  But  it  is  the  im- 
pression throughout  the  realm  that  the  sovereign  of  Great  Britain 
has  been  from  the  first  our  judicious  but  our  steadfast  friend.  It 
is  believed,  and  so  represented  to  me,  that  her  never-rightly- 
estimated  and  lamented  consort  was  our  fast  friend,  and  that 
among  the  last  acts  of  his  life  were  those  which  erased  from 
documents  presented  to  him  sentences  that  would  have  inflamed 
the  growing  anger.  And  if  you  ask  me  what  is  the  great  under- 
lying influence  that  has  been  at  work  upon  the  upper  class  of 
England,  I  answer  thus  : 

"  1.   Commercial  interest  and  rivalry  therein. 

u  2.  Class-power  and  the  fear  of  contagion  from  American 
ideas. 

"  3.  (I  know  not  how  I  shall  say  it  so  that  it  shall  be  the  least 
offensive  to  our  friends  on  the  other  side,  but  neither  they  nor 
you  have  come  to  the  bottom  of  the  conduct  of  Great  Britain 
until  you  have  touched  that  delicate  and  real  foundation  cause.) 
We  are  too  large  and  strong  a  nation. 

"  With  this  state  of  facts  you  will  ask  how  it  is  that  the  Eng- 
lish people  have  been  restrained  ?  How  is  it  that  they  have  not 
gone  into  overt  belligerency  ?  That  is  the  very  question  that  I 
propose  to  answer,  and  in  the  statement  that  the  English  heart  is 
on  our  side.  The  nobility  is  against  us  ;  the  government  is 
divided  and  a  part  is  against  us.  I  think  I  may  say  that  while  the 
brains  that  represent  progress  in  Great  Britain  are  in  our  favor, 
yet  the  conservative  intelligence  of  Great  Britain  is  against  us, 
and  that  all  there  is  on  the  surface  of  society,  representing  its 
dignities,  its  power  and  intelligence,  is  anti-American.  And  the 
question  I  propose  to  you  is,  How,  with  the  papers,  magazines, 
and  universities,  how  with  their  titled  estates  opposed  to  us,  that 
they  have  been  restrained  from  manifesting  this  in  open  hostility  ? 
It  is  because  there  is  a  great  underlying  influence  that  restrains 
them — it  is  the  influence  of  that  under-life,  and  to  a  very  great 
extent  of  the  non-voting  English,  which  has  produced  this  effect. 


440  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

It  is  a  thing  I  could  not  understand  at  first,  and  which  it  is  very 
difficult  for  us  to  understand  ;  for  wherever  in  our  country  there 
is  a  majority  of  the  votes  there  is  sure  to  be  a  direction  of  affairs. 
But  it  is  not  so  in  England.  I  learned  that  the  men  who  could 
not  vote,  where  they  were  united  and  determined,  had  the  power 
to  control  the  men  who  do  vote.  I  hold  in  my  hand  a  letter  from 
Richard  Cobden.  He  says :  '  You  will  carry  back  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  a  state  of  feeling  in  this  country  among  what, 
for  a  better  name,  I  call  the  ruling  class.  Their  sympathy  is  un- 
doubtedly strongly  for  the  South,  with  the  instinctive  satisfaction 
at  the  prospect  of  the  disruption  of  the  great  Republic.  It  is 
natural  enough.  But  do  not  forget  that  we  have  in  this  case,  for 
the  first  time  in  our  history,  seen  the  masses  of  the  British  people 
taking  sides  for  a  foreign  government  against  its  rebellious  citi- 
zens. In  every  other  instance,  whether  in  the  case  of  the  Poles, 
Italians,  Hungarians  and  Corsicans,  Greeks,  or  South  Americans, 
the  popular  sympathy  of  this  country  has  always  leaped  to  the 
side  of  the  insurgents  the  moment  the  rebellion  has  broken  out. 
In  the  present  case  our  masses  have  an  instinctive  feeling  that 
their  cause  is  bound  up  in  the  prosperity  of  the  States — the 
United  States.  It  is  true  that  they  have  not  a  particle  of  power 
in  the  direct  form  of  a  vote,  but,  when  millions  in  this  country 
are  led  by  the  religious  middle  class,  they  can  go  and  prevent 
the  governing  class  from  pursuing  a  policy  hostile  to  their  sym- 
pathies.' 

"  Into  such  an  atmosphere  and  among  such  a  people  I  went. 
And  when,  unsought,  and  indeed  against  my  feelings  if  not  against 
my  judgment,  I  entered  upon  the  labor  of  the  past  few  weeks  of 
my  sojourn  in  England,  I  assumed  the  responsibility,  I  cannot  say 
with  trembling — for  I  am  not  accustomed  much  to  tremble — but  I 
assumed  the  responsibility  with  the  gravest  sense  of  what  it  was. 
I  have  felt  the  inspiration  of  nationality  often,  but  I  never  before 
was  placed  between  two  such  great  peoples,  where  I  saw  them 
both  in  prospective,  both  in  their  present  relations  and  in  their 
future.  I  never  before  felt  so  much  as  I  felt  all  the  time,  waking 
or  dreaming,  night  or  day,  what  it  was  to  stand  and  plead  for  the 
unity  of  these  two  great  nations,  for  the  sake  of  struggling  man- 
kind ;  and  it  was  at  once  an  excitement  to  me  and  a  support. 
But,  after  all,  I  did  not  know  how  my  countrymen  would  regard 
my  efforts.     If  you  had  disapproved   I  should  have  been  sorry 


AV  T.  ttENR  V  WARD   BE  E  ( III-.  R.  \\\ 

that  you  disapproved,  but  not  sorry  tor  what  I  had  done.  I  did 
the  best  I  knew  how  to  do,  everv  time,  everywhere  disinterestedly 
for  the  love  I  bear  to  the  cause  and  to  the  principles  which  un- 
derlie it.  I  did  not  hear  from  home  whether  my  representations 
of  policy,  of  fact,  of  history,  and  of  the  tendencies  of  things 
would  accord  with  yours,  or  whether  I  should  not  be  caught  up 
in  the  whirl  of  conflicting  parties,  my  reasonings  traversed,  and 
my  arguments  denied.  When  I  landed  in  Boston  I  learned  for 
the  first  time  that  my  services  had  been  accepted  by  my  country- 
men. .  .   . 

"  That  to  a  certain  extent  my  speeches  produced  among  the 
common  people  beneficial  results  there  can  be  no  doubt  ;  but 
how  far  that  extended,  or  whether  they  had  influence  upon  the 
thinking  classes,  others  could  say  better  than  I.  They  were 
certainly  greatly  aided  by  the  fact  that  Lee  was  defeated  at 
Gettysburg  and  driven  back  to  Virginia,  and  that  at  the  same 
time  Grant  received  the  surrender  of  Vicksburg.  Those  timely 
victories,  together  with  other  causes,  held  in  check  the  man- 
oeuvres and  diplomacy  of  crowned  heads  and  made  interven- 
tion less  certain  and  more  remote  ;  and  gave  time  for  Grant's 
success  at  Chattanooga,  and  his  transfer  to  the  Army  of  the  Po- 
tomac, and  in  turn  his  promotion  to  general-in-chief  of  the  ope- 
rations in  the  field. 

"  I  put  no  immoderate  estimate  on  my  services.  I  believe  I 
did  some  good  wherever  I  spoke.  But  it  should  be  remembered 
that  a  single  man,  a  stranger  in  the  community,  would  be  eaten 
up  by  vanity  if  he  said  or  supposed,  that  he  had  done  all  the 
good  that  had  been  accomplished.  There  must  have  been 
preparation.  He  merely  came  to  touch  the  train  that  had 
already  been  laid.  When,  in  October,  you  go  to  the  tree  and 
give  it  a  jar,  and  the  fruit  comes  down  all  around  you,  it  is  not 
you  that  ripens  it.  A  whole  summer  has  been  doing  that.  You 
merely  brought  down  the  fruit  prepared.  It  was  my  happy  for- 
tune to  be  there  to  jar  the  tree.  The  fruit  that  fell  was  not  of  my 
ripening." 

A  few  brief  extracts  from  three  of  the  leading  papers  in  New 
York,  published  at  the  time,  are  quoted  as  indications  of  the  pop- 
ular sentiment  as  to  the  value  of  his  work  : 

"It  is  plain,  from  the  whole  tone  of  the  British  press,  that  Mr. 
Beecher  has  been  instrumental  in  starting,  or  at  least  hastening,  a 


442  REV.  HEXRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

complete  revolution  of  the  popular  feeling  of  the  kingdom  in 
favor  of  our  National  cause.  He  is  the  man  who  ought  to 
have  been  sent  to  England  two  years  ago  to  enlighten  and 
rouse  the  people.  Had  this  been  done  he  could  have  hardly 
failed  of  preventing  a  vast  deal  of  that  bitterness  which  has  since, 
all  the  while,  been  fermenting  between  the  two  nations." 

"  The  Administration  at  Washington  have  sent  abroad  more 
than  one  man  to  represent  the  cause  of  the  North  and  press  it 
upon  the  minds  of  foreign  courts  and  citizens  ;  but  here  is  a  per- 
son who  goes  abroad  without  official  prestige,  on  a  mere  private 
mission  to  recruit  his  health,  and  yet  we  doubt  whether  his  four 
or  five  speeches  in  England  have  not  done  more  for  us,  by  their 
frank  and  manly  exposition  of  our  principles,  our  purpose,  and 
our  hopes,  than  all  the  other  agencies  employed." 

"  Every  loyal  American,  whatever  his  opinions  respecting  the 
past  words  and  acts  of  Henry  Ward  Beech er,  will  thank  him  for 
his  work  across  the  water.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  affirm  that 
the  five  speeches  he  has  delivered — in  Manchester,  Glasgow, 
Edinburgh,  Liverpool,  and  London — each  pursuing  its  own  line 
of  argument  and  appeal,  have  done  more  for  our  cause  in  Eng- 
land and  Scotland  than  all  that  has  been  before  said  or  written." 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  causes,  it  is  historical  that  the 
English  government,  which  had  been  trembling  upon  the  very 
verge  of  intervention,  withdrew  from  this  project  and  began  to 
entertain  much  more  peaceful  and  friendly  feelings  towards  the 
United  States — feelings  that  have  grown  stronger  and  deeper 
with  each  successive  year. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

of  the  War — Distrust  of  the  Administration — Kindlier  Feelings  after 
Mr.  Beechcr's  Return  from  England — Growing  Confidence — Intimacy 
with  Secretary  Stanton — Fort  Sumter — Lee's  Surrender — Lincoln's 
Death. 

OX  his  return  home  from  England,  Mr.  Beecher  found  that 
there  was  a  marked  change  in  the  feelings  of  the  Adminis- 
tration towards  him.  It  was  the  popular  verdict,  in  which 
Washington  concurred,  that  the  series  of  speeches  just  delivered, 
in  conjunction  with  the  successes  of  our  armies  in  the  field,  had 
switched  the  English  government  off  from  the  track  leading  to 
intervention  and  probably  war,  and  had  started  it  in  the  direction 
of  friendliness  and  peace.  Before  that  time  he  had  succeeded  in 
creating  in  the  minds  of  the  President  and  his  cabinet  a  feeling 
which,  if  not  hostile,  was  at  least  not  friendly.  With  many 
things  that  had  occurred  or  failed  to  occur  during  1861--2  and 
early  in  1863  he  had  felt  great  impatience.  He  had  had  no  sym- 
pathy with  the  feeling,  that  prevailed  so  generally  during  the  first 
few  months  of  the  war,  that  it  would  be  an  affair  of  but  a  few 
months,  that  75,000  men  would  be  more  than  enough  to  end  the 
rebellion.  He  felt  that  the  proper  policy  was  for  the  government 
to  crush  the  rebellion  by  the  power  of  an  enormous  army,  and 
that  it  was  but  poor  economy  to  send  forward  troops  by  driblets. 
Xor  did  he  at  all  believe  in  the  distinction  that  existed  between 
the  United  States  regulars  and  the  State  troops.  He  thought 
that  they  ought  to  be  all  United  States  troops.  What  he  felt  he 
was  not  slow  to  say.  On  June  10,  1861,  he  wrote  to  the  Presi- 
dent, urging  the  government  to  accept  a  regiment  raised  by  Col- 
onel Stockton  : 

u  Ought  not  such  a  man  as  the  one  whom  I  send  to  you,  Col- 
onel T.  B.  W.  Stockton,  of  Michigan,  a  West  Point  graduate,  a 
colonel  in  the  Mexican  war,  to  have  a  chance  in  this  great  war, 
with  a  thousand  men  at  his  back  ? 

"  Do  we  not  need  men  that  have  seen  fire  ? 

"  I  am   exceedingly  desirous,  anxious  even,  that  a  large   de- 

443 


444 


REV.  HENRY  WARD   BEECH ER. 


monstration  of  power  should  be  made,  as  a  matter  of  economy,  of 
humanity^  and  of  expedition. 

"  Are  we  not  in  danger  of  being  injured  by  a  Northern  mis- 
construction of  State  rights,  which  shall  prevent  government  from 
taking  troops  where  it  pleases,  without  being  obliged  to  come  to 
the  people  through  the  machinery  of  State  governments  ? 

"  //  is  the  people's  war.  The  people  must  be  allowed  to  have 
a  fair  chance  for  the  exertion  of  their  will." 

And  later,  when  political  expediency  was  permitted  to  play  so 
prominent  a  part  in  the  selection  and  action  of  our  generals,  his 
indignation  was  intense  and  outspoken.  While  he  felt  great 
admiration  for  President  Lincoln  and  great  confidence  in  him, 
still  he  felt  that  he  was  making  serious  mistakes.  As  we  have 
seen,  Mr.  Beecher  was  then  the  editor-in-chief  of  the  New  York 
Independent,  and  through  its  editorials  he  sought  to  rouse  both 
the  President  and  public  sentiment.  Speaking  of  this  time,  he 
says  : 

"In  1862  the  great  delay,  the  want  of  any  success,  the  mas- 
terly inactivity  of  our  leading  generals,  roused  my  indignation, 
and  I  wrote  a  series  of  editorials  addressed  to  the  President  "  [to 
which  we  have  referred  and  from  which  we  have  largely  quoted 
in  a  previous  chapter],  "  and  as  near  as  I  can  recollect  they  were 
in  the  nature  of  a  mowing-machine — they  cut  at  every  revolution 
— and  I  was  told  one  day  that  the  President  had  received  them 
and  read  them  through  with  very  serious  countenance,  and  that 
his  only  criticism  was  :  '  Is  thy  servant  a  dog  ? '  They  bore  down 
on  him  very  hard." 

Not  unnaturally,  neither  the  President  nor  his  cabinet  felt  es- 
pecially pleased  at  this.  They  looked  upon  it  as  a  hostile  attack, 
and  did  not  regard  him  with  any  over-friendly  feeling. 

But  in  November,  1863,  we  find  all  this  changed.  The  Admin- 
istration now  could  see  in  past  criticism,  not  personal  hostility, 
but  an  anxious  desire,  through  love  of  country,  to  prevent  mistakes 
and  secure  the  best  course  of  action.  A  far  more  kindly  and 
confidential  relation  was  established,  which  continued  through 
that  Administration.  When,  in  1864,  there  was  so  much  talk  about 
compromise,  Mr.  Beecher  went  direct  to  the  President  and  had  a 
confidential  talk  with  him,  which  he  describes  in  a  brief  sketch 
(of  Lincoln)  : 

"  There  was  some  talk  early  in  1864  of  a  sort  of  compromise 


Mr.   Beecher  at  the  Close  of  the  War. 


445 


446  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

with  the  South.  Blair  had  told  the  President  that  he  was  satis- 
fied, if  he  could  be  put  in  communication  with  some  of  the  lead- 
in-  men  of  the  South  in  some  way  or  other,  that  some  benefit 
would  accrue.  Lincoln  had  sent  a  delegation  to  meet  Alexander 
Stephens,  and  that  was  all  the  North  knew.  We  were  all  very 
much  excited  over  that.  The  war  lasted  so  long  that  I  was 
afraid  Lincoln  would  be  so  anxious  for  peace,  and  I  was  afraid 
he  would  accept  something  that  would  be  of  advantage  to  the 
South,  so  I  went  to  Washington  and  called  upon  him.  We  were 
alone  in  his  receiving-room.  His  hair  was  '  every  way  for  Sunday.' 
It  looked  as  though  it  was  an  abandoned  stubble-field.  He  had 
on  slippers,  and  his  vest  was  what  was  called  '  going  free.'  He 
looked  wearied,  and,  when  he  sat  down  in  a  chair,  looked  as 
though  every  limb  wanted  to  drop  off  his  body.  And  I  said  to 
him  :  k  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  come  to  you  to  know  whether  the  public 
interest  will  permit  you  to  explain  to  me  what  this  Southern  com- 
mission means  ? '  Well,  he  listened  very  patiently,  and  looked 
up  to  the  ceiling  for  a  few  moments,  and  said  :  '  Well,  I  am 
almost  of  a  mind  to  show  you  all  the  documents.' 

11  'Well  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  should  like  to  see  them  if  it  is  proper.' 
He  went  to  his  little  secretary,  and  came  out  and  handed  me  a 
little  card  as  long  as  my  .finger  and  an  inch  wide,  and  on  that 
was  written — 

"  'You  will  pass  the  bearer  through  the  lines'  (or  something 
to  that  effect).  kA.  Lincoln.' 

M '  There,'  he  said,  '  is  all  there  is  of  it.  Now,  Blair  thinks 
something  can  be  done,  but  I  don't,  but  I  have  no  objection  to 
have  him  try  his  hand.  He  has  no  authority  whatever,  but  to  go 
and  see  what  he  can  do.' 

" k  Well,'  said  I,  k  you  have  lifted  a  great  burden  off  my 
mind.'  " 

During  the  last  year  of  the  President's  life  they  became  very 
intimate,  and  the  respect  and  admiration  which  Mr.  Beecher 
shared,  in  common  with  the  general  feeling  of  the  North,  deep- 
ened into  a  strong  personal  love.  In  one  of  his  Friday  night 
prayer-meetings,  shortly  after  Mr.  Lincoln's  death,  he  refers  to 
their  intimacy  : 

"  I  am  sure  no  one  more  than  I,  can  feel  the  personal  afflic- 
tion,  outside   of    those  that    were    immediately   associated    with 


REV.  HENRY  WARl  JER.  447 

President  Lincoln.  I  need  not  say  to  you  how  my  public  rela- 
tions have  brought  me,  not  only  to  the  most  constant  study  of 
his  course  and  of  his  character,  but  into  some  personal  relations 
with  him  that  have  given  me  more  knowledge  of  him  than  other- 
wise I  should  have  had.  I  was  reading  to-night,  before  I  came 
here,  the  last  letter  that  I  received  from  him.  It  had  reference 
to  an  interview  which  I  had  had  with  him  on  a  particular  sub- 
ject. It  is  a  precious  letter  to  me.  During  the  time  that  I  was 
with  him  (it  was  between  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  in 
Washington)  his  great  kindness,  his  great  simplicity,  and  his 
great  frankness  opened  him  to  me,  and  I  saw  him  more  fully 
than  ever  before,  as  very  wise,  as  shrewd  as  well  as  wise,  as  far- 
reaching  and  sagacious  as  well  as  shrewd,  and,  above  all,  as 
faithful  to  the  great  interests  that  were  committed  to  him.  That 
interview  has  come  up  to  me  over  and  over  and  over  again.  It 
seemed  as  though  it  was  but  yesterday.  And  when  the  tidings 
that  he  was  gone  came  to  me,  I  know  not  how  I  shall  describe 
the  sense  that  I  had  of  a  strange  personal  loss." 

During  this  period  Mr.  Beecher  formed  the  acquaintance  of 
Stanton,  which  speedily  ripened  into  a  very  strong  friendship, 
largely  through  an  impulsive  act  of  sympathy  by  Mr.  Beecher  : 

"  I  came  up  Wall  Street  one  day  and  met  a  friend,  who  said  : 
1 1  have  just  come  back  from  Washington.  Stanton  is  breaking 
down  ;   he  won't  hold  out  much  longer.' 

"  Well,  it  just  struck  me  all  into  a  heap.  I  walked  into  an 
office  in  Wall  Street  and  said,  '  Will  you  allow  me  pen  and  ink  ? ' 
and  wrote  to  him  just  what  I  had  heard — that  he  was  sick  and 
broken  down  and  desponding.  I  wrote  that  he  need  not  de- 
spond, that  the  country  was  saved,  and,  if  he  did  not  do  another 
thing,  he  had  done  enough.  I  sent  the  letter,  and  in  the  course 
of  a  few  days  I  got  back  a  letter,  and  if  it  had  been  a  woman 
writing  in  answer  to  a  proposal  it  could  not  have  been  more  ten- 
der. And  when  I  went  to  Washington  he  treated  me  with  great 
tenderness,  as  if  I  had  been  his  son." 

From  this  letter  of  Secretary  Stanton,  which  is  before  us,  we 
quote  : 

"  How  deeply  your  kind  note  has  affected  me  is  beyond  my 
power  to  tell.  .  .  .  The  approbation,  confidence,  and  sympathy 
of  any  man  was  never  more  highly  prized  than  yours  is  by  me. 
Your  friendly  words  are  a  cordial  that  strengthens  me,  and  your 


448  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

kind  sympathy  will  serve  to  dispel  the  gloom  and  despondency 
that,  as  you  rightly  judged,  does  sometimes,  in  moments  of  phy- 
sical weariness,  gather  upon  my  brain  and  press  heavily  upon  my 
heart.  Let  me  tell  you  that  often  and  often,  in  dark  hours,  you 
have  come  before  me,  and  I  have  longed  to  hear  your  voice, 
feeling  that  above  all  other  men  you  could  cheer,  strengthen, 
guide,  and  uphold  me  in  this  great  battle,  where,  by  God's  Provi- 
dence, it  has  fallen  upon  me  to  hold  a  post  and  perform  a  duty 
beyond  my  own  strength.  But,  being  a  stranger,  I  had  no  right 
to  claim  your  confidence  or  ask  for  help,  and  so  have  been 
forced  to  struggle  on  patiently  as  I  might  from  day  to  day,  sup- 
ported only  by  fervent  faith  in  our  sacred  cause,  and  the  con- 
sciousness that  prayers  were  being  offered  up  by  good  people 
for  aid.  Now,  my  dear  sir,  your  voice  has  reached  me,  and  your 
hand  is  stretched  forth  as  to  a  friend,  and  henceforth  I  shall  look 
to  you  and  lean  upon  you  with  a  sure  and  abiding  trust.  Al- 
ready my  heart  feels  renewed  strength  and  is  inspired  with  fresh 
hope.  There  are  some  points  involved  in,  or  developed  by,  this 
present  contest,  on  which  I  wish  to  commune  with  you  before 
long." 

Early  in  1865,  and  shortly  after  the  surrender  of  Charleston, 
in  reply  to  a  letter  received  from  Mr.  Beecher  making  some  sug- 
gestions, the  Secretary  wrote  : 

"  It  will  not  be  in  my  power  to  go  to  Charleston  just  now,  but 
I  would  be  glad  to  send  you,  and  as  many  school-teachers  as  will 
go.  .  .  .  Your  idea  of  racing  the  flag  over  a  colored  school  and 
making  our  banner  the  banner  of  civilization  is  indeed  a  noble 
one,  and  heartily  my  feelings  respond  to  the  suggestion.  Soon 
after  the  4th  of  March  I  may  be  able  to  go  to  South  Carolina 
and  do  what  may  be  done  in  that  direction.  .  .  .  We  received  this 
morning  the  news  of  the  capture  of  Wilmington  yesterday. 
Surely  the  end  cannot  be  afar  off.  The  battle  of  physical  force  is 
nearly  won,  and  now  we  must  fight  for  civilization,  including 
therein  legal  protection  to  the  rights  of  all,  and  universal  educa- 
tion. What  of  strength,  heart,  and  hope  is  left  to  me  I  am  will- 
ing to  spend  with  you  in  that  cause.  Please  let  me  know  if  you 
will  go  to  Charleston  without  waiting  for  me.  The  sooner  you 
go  the  better." 

Shortly  after  this  it  was  decided  to  celebrate  the  anniversary 
of  the  fall  of  Fort  Sumter  (April  14)  by  an  imposing  military  and 


REV.   //EXRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


449 


naval  demonstration,  and  by  raisin-   again  the  old  flag  over  its 
parapet,  and  the  project  of  sending  to  Charleston  a  delegation 

headed  by  Mr.  Ileeeher  was  abandoned. 

A.3  soon  as  the  general  plan  of  the  Fort  Sumter  celebration 
had  been  decided  upon,  the  President  invited  Mr.  Beecher  to  be 
present  and  deliver  the  address. 

On  March  27,  1865,  the  following  general  order  was  issued  : 

"  GENERAL  ORDERS,      )         WAR    DEPARTMENT, 

\  '.  50.  j  Adjutant-General's  Office, 

Washington,  March  27,  1865, 
"  Ordered  — 

"First.  That  at  the  hour  of  noon,  on  the  14th  day  of  April, 
1865,  Brevet  Major-General  Anderson  will  raise  and  plant  upon 
the  ruins  of  Fort  Sumter,  in  Charleston  Harbor,  the  same  United 
States  flag  which  floated  over  the  battlements  of  that  fort  during 
the  rebel  assault,  and  which  was  lowered  and  saluted  by  him  and 
the  small  force  of  his  command  when  the  works  were  evacuated 
on  the  14th  day  of  April,  1861. 

"  Second.  That  the  flag,  when  raised,  be  saluted  by  one  hun- 
dred guns  from  Fort  Sumter,  and  by  a  national  salute  from  every 
fort  and  rebel  battery  that  fired  upon  Fort  Sumter. 

"  Third.  That  suitable  ceremonies  be  had  upon  the  occasion, 
under  the  direction  of  Major-General  William  T.  Sherman, 
whose  military  operations  compelled  the  rebels  to  evacuate 
Charleston,  or,  in  his  absence,  under  the  charge  of  Major-General 
Q.  A.  Gillmore,  commanding  the  Department.  Among  the 
ceremonies  will  be  the  delivery  of  a  public  address  by  the  Reve- 
rend Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

''Fourth.  That  the  naval  forces  at  Charleston,  and  their  com- 
mander on  that  station,  be  invited  to  participate  in  the  cere- 
monies of  the  occasion. 

"  By  order  of  the  President  of  the  United  States. 

"  Edwin  M.  Stanton, 

"  Secretary  of   War." 

The  steamer  Arago  was  sent  by  the  government  to  New 
York  to  transport  the  invited  guests  to  Charleston.  As  soon  as 
the  formal  invitations  to  the  guests  of  the  government  had  been 
issued  and  accepted,  Secretary  Stanton  telegraphed  Mr.  Beecher  : 


450  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  A  list  of  the  persons  who  have  accepted  invitations  on  the 
Arago  has  been  forwarded  to  General  Van  Vliet.  I  do  not  ex- 
actly understand  the  extent  of  the  accommodations  on  the  Arago, 
but  think  there  may  perhaps  be  room  for  a  few  more  ;  if  you  will 
see  him  and  find  that  more  can  be  accommodated,  you  are  au- 
thorized to  fill  up  the  number  with  such  persons  as  you  may 
wish  to  accompany  you.  On  presentation  of  this  telegram  he  will 
give  them  free  transportation  and  subsistence  as  if  this  were  a 
formal  order.  .  .  .  Edwin  M.  Stanton, 

"  Secretary  of  IVar." 

During  this  spring  the  Secretary  was  in  constant  telegraphic 
communication  with  Mr.  Beecher,  keeping  him  informed  of  each 
victory  or  successful  move  of  our  army  as  it  occurred. 

This  led  to  a  thrilling  incident  in  Plymouth  Church.  Dur- 
ing the  month  of  March  of  this  year  it  became  very  plain  that 
the  war  was  surely  drawing  to  a  close.  Lee,  hemmed  in  by 
Grant,  Sherman,  and  Sheridan,  obviously  could  not  hold  out 
very  much  longer. 

The  whole  country  watched  and  waited  with  almost  breath- 
less interest  as  slowly  but  surely  the  end  drew  on,  the  intensity 
of  feeling  growing  stronger  as  the  end  seemed  nearer.  It  was  in 
this  condition  of  the  public  mind,  and  on  Sunday,  April  2,  that, 
just  after  Mr.  Beecher  had  finished  his  sermon  and  had  given  out 
a  hymn,  a  telegram  was  handed  up  to  him  on  the  platform. 

Catching  the  feeling  in  the  air  that  something  of  importance 
had  happened,  every  eye  was  turned  to  the  platform  and  a  si- 
lence like  death  fell  upon  the  three  thousand  gathered  there. 
Eagerly  the  telegram  was  opened,  and  as  the  flash  of  joy  lit  up 
Mr.  Beecher's  face  a  thrill  ran  through  the  congregation,  in- 
stantly hushed  as  he  said  : 

"  The  congregation  will  turn  to  '  America '  while  I  read  the 
following  telegram  : 


"  '  War  Department,  Washington, 
"'April  2,  1865. 

"  '  To  Rev.  H.  W.  Beecher,  Brooklyn  : 

" '  A  despatch  just  received  from  General  Grant's  adjutant- 
general  at  City  Point  announces  the  triumphant   success   of  our 


REV.   HEXRY  IVAKD  BEECHER. 


45' 


armies  after  three  days  of  hard  fighting,  during  which  the  ton  es 
on  both  sides  exhibited  unsurpassed  valor  : 

"  '  Cl  i  v  Point,  Va.,  April  2.  I 

11  '  5.30  AM. 

'*  '  A  despatch  from  General  Grant  states  that  General  Sheridan,  com- 
manding cavalry  and  infantry,  has  carried  everything  before  him.  He  cap- 
tured three  brigades  of  infantry,  a  wagon-train,  and  several  batteries  of 
artillery.     The  prisoners  captured  will  amount  to  several  thousand. 

11  '  (Signed)  T.  S.  Bowers,  A.  A.  G. 

"'Edwin  M.  Stanton, 

"  '  Secretary  of  War.'  ' 

As  he  ceased  speaking  the  great  throng  rose  and,  as  one  man. 
with  streaming  eyes  joined  in  the  triumphant  anthem, 

"  My  country,  'tis  of  thee  !" 

The  organist  drew  the  trumpet  stops,  and  turned  the  full  power 
of  the  great  organ  into  the  hymn,  but  it  was  drowned  by  the 
voices  raised  in  solemn  thanksgiving.  Not  a  voice  was  silent, 
not  an  eye  was  dry.  As  the  last  notes  of  the  hymn  died  out 
many  a  strong  man  dropped  into  his  seat  and  sobbed  with  thank- 
fulness.    The  beginning  of  the  end  had  come. 

On  the  8th  of  April  the  Arago  sailed  from  New  York  for 
Charleston.  The  day  after  she  sailed  came  the  surrender  of 
Lee's  army. 

Of  course  no  word  of  the  news  was  received  aboard  the 
Arago  until  she  arrived  off  Charleston  Harbor. 

"  It  was  when  I  was  tossing  upon  the  sea,"  said  Mr.  Beecher, 
14  off  the  harbor  of  Charleston,  that  we  were  spoken,  and  the  tid- 
ings were  communicated  to  us  from  another  ship,  '  Lee  has  sur- 
rendered !  '  And  the  wild  outcry,  the  strange  caprices  and  ex- 
ultations of  that  moment,  they  never  will  forget  who  were  pre- 
sent. We  were  far  off  from  the  scene  of  war  ;  we  saw  no 
signs  nor  tokens  ;  it  was  as  if  the  heaven  had  imparted  it  to  us  ; 
but  oh  !  what  gladness,  what  ecstasy  there  was  in  that  news  no 
man  can  know  but  those  who  have  suffered   as  we  had  suffered." 

Of  his  speech  at  the  raising  of  the  flag  we  can  only  quote  a 
few  brief  extracts: 

"  On  this  solemn  and  joyful  day  we  again  lift  to  the  breeze 
our  fathers'  flag,  now  again   the  banner  of  the  United  States,  with 


452  BIO  GRA  PH  Y  OF 

the  fervent  prayer  that  God  will  crown  it  with  honor,  protect  it 
from  treason,  and  send  it  down  to  our  children  with  all  the  bless- 
ings of  civilization,  liberty,  and  religion.  Terrible  in  battle, 
may  it  be  beneficent  in  peace  !  Happily  no  bird  or  beast  of  prey 
lias  been  inscribed  upon  it.  The  stars  that  redeem  the  night 
from  darkness,  and  the  beams  of  red  light  that  beautify  the 
morning,  have  been  united  upon  its  folds.  As  long  as  the  sun  or 
the  stars  endure  may  it  wave  over  a  nation  neither  enslaved,  nor 
enslaving.  Once,  and  but  once,  has  treason  dishonored  it.  In 
that  insane  hour,  when  the  guiltiest  and  bloodiest  rebellion  of 
time  hurled  its  fires  upon  this  fort,  you,  sir  [turning  to  General 
Anderson],  and  a  small  heroic  band,  stood  within  these  now 
crumbled  walls,  and  did  gallant  and  just  battle  for  the  honor  and 
defence  of  the  nation's  banner.  .  .  . 

"  After  a  vain  resistance,  with  trembling  hand  and  sad  heart 
you  withdrew  the  banner  from  its  height,  closed  its  wings,  and 
bore  it  far  away  to  sleep  amid  the  tumults  of  rebellion  and  the 
thunder  of  battle.  .  .  . 

"  To-day  you  are  returned  again.  The  heavens  over  you  are 
the  same  ;  the  same  shores  are  here;  morning  and  evening  come 
as  they  did.  All  else  how  changed  !  What  grim  batteries  crowd 
the  burdened  shores  !  What  scenes  have  filled  this  air  and  dis- 
turbed these  waters  !  These  shattered  heaps  of  shapeless  stone 
are  all  that  is  left  of  Fort  Sumter.  Desolation  broods  in  yonder 
sad  city  ;  solemn  retribution  hath  avenged  our  dishonored  ban- 
ner. You,  who  departed  hence  four  years  ago,  leaving  the  air 
sultrv  with  fanaticism,  have  come  back  with  honor.  The  surging 
crowds  that  rolled  up  their  frenzied  shouts,  as  the  flag  came 
down,  are  dead,  or  scattered,  or  silent,  and  their  habitations  are 
desolate.  Ruin  sits  in  the  cradle  of  treason.  Rebellion  has 
perished.  But  there  flies  the  same  flag  that  was  insulted.  With 
starrv  eves  it  looks  all  over  this  bay  for  that  banner  that  sup- 
planted it,  and  sees  it  not.  You  that  then,  for  the  day,  were 
humbled,  are  here  again,  to  triumph  once  and  for  ever.  In  the 
storm  of  that  assault  this  glorious  ensign  was  often  struck  ;  but, 
memorable  fact,  not  one  of  its  stars  was  torn  out  by  shot  or  shell. 
It  was  a  prophecy.  It  said,  '  Not  one  State  shall  be  struck  from 
this  nation  by  treason.'  The  fulfilment  is  at  hand.  Lifted  to 
the  air  to-day,  it  proclaims  that,  after  four  years  of  war,  4  not  a 
State  is  blotted  out !  '  .  .  . 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHEk,  453 

"Wherefore  have  we  come  hither,  pilgrims  from  distant 
places?     Are  we  come  to  exult  that  Northern  hands  are  stronger 

than  Southern?  No;  but  to  rejoice  that  the  hands  of  those  who 
defend  a  just  and  beneficent  government  are  mightier  than  the 
hands  that  assaulted  it!  Do  we  exult  over  fallen  cities'  We 
exult  that  a  nation  has  not  fallen.  We  sorrow  with  the  sorrow- 
ful. We  sympathize  with  the  desolate.  We  look  upon  this  shat- 
tered fort  and  yonder  dilapidated  city,  with  sad  eyes,  grieved 
that  men  should  have  committed  such  treason,  and  glad  that 
God  hath  set  such  a  mark  upon  treason  that  all  ages  shall  dread 
and  abhor  it. 

"  We  exult,  not  for  a  passion  gratified,  but  for  a  sentiment 
victorious  ;  not  for  temper,  but  for  conscience  ;  not,  as  we  de- 
voutly believe,  that  our  will  is  done,  but  that  God's  will  hath  been 
done  !  We  should  be  unworthy  of  that  liberty  entrusted  to  our 
care  if,  on  such  a  day  as  this,  we  sullied  our  hearts  by  feelings 
of  aimless  vengeance  ;  and  equally  unworthy  if  we  did  not  de- 
voutly thank  Him  who  hath  said,  '  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  re- 
pay, saith  the  Lord,'  that  He  hath  set  a  mark  upon  arrogant  Re- 
bellion, ineffaceable  while  time  lasts  !  .  .  . 

"  That  long  night  is  ended  !  And  for  this  returning  day  we 
have  come  from  afar,  to  rejoice  and  give  thanks.  No  more  war. 
No  more  accursed  secession  !  No  more  slavery,  that  spawned  them 
both  ! 

"  Let  no  man  misread  the  meaning  of  this  unfolding  flag  !  It 
says,  '  Government  hath  returned  hither.'  It  proclaims,  in  the 
name  of  vindicated  government,  peace  and  protection  to  loyalty, 
humiliation  and  pains  to  traitors.  This  is  the  flag  of  sovereignty. 
The  nation,  not  the  States,  is  sovereign.  Restored  to  authority, 
this  flag  commands,  not  supplicates. 

"  There  may  be  pardon,  but  no  concession.  There  may  be 
amnesty  and  oblivion,  but  no  honeyed  compromises.  The  nation 
to-day  has  peace  for  the  peaceful,  and  war  for  the  turbulent. 
The  only  condition  of  submission,  is,  to  submit !  There  is  the 
Constitution,  there  are  the  laws,  there  is  the  government. 
They  rise  up  like  mountains  of  strength  that  shall  not  be  moved. 
They  are  the  conditions  of  peace. 

"  One  nation,  under  one  government,  without  slavery,  has  been 
ordained  and  shall  sta-nd.  There  can  be  peace  on  no  other 
basis.     On  this  basis  reconstruction  is  easy,  and  needs  neither 


454  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

architect  nor  engineer.  Without  this  basis  no  engineer  or  archi- 
tect shall  ever  reconstruct  these  rebellious  States.  .  .  . 

"  I  charge  the  whole  guilt  of  this  war  upon  the  ambitious, 
educated,  plotting  political  leaders  of  the  South.  They  have 
shed  this  ocean  of  blood.  They  have  desolated  the  South.  They 
have  poured  poverty  through  all  her  towns  and  cities.  They 
have  bewildered  the  imagination  of  the  people  with  phantasms, 
and  led  them  to  believe  that  they  were  fighting  for  their  homes 
and  liberty,  whose  homes  were  unthreatened,  and  whose  liberty 
was  in  no  jeopardy.  .  .  . 

"  But  for  the  people  misled,  for  the  multitudes  drafted  and 
driven  into  this  civil  war,  let  not  a  trace  of  animosity  remain. 
The  moment  their  willing  hand  drops  the  musket  and  they  re- 
turn to  their  allegiance,  then  stretch  out  your  own  honest  right 
hand  to  greet  them.  Recall  to  them  the  old  days  of  kindness. 
Our  hearts  wait  for  their  redemption.  All  the  resources  of  a 
renovated  nation  shall  be  applied  to  rebuild  their  prosperity  and 
smooth  down  the  furrows  of  war." 

After  the  ceremonies  of  the  14th  Mr.  Beecher  and  his  party 
spent  two  days  in  visiting  the  various  historic  points  in  the  city 
and  harbor  of  Charleston,  then  went  to  Hilton  Head,  where  the 
steamer  Sua  Nada  was  placed  at  his  disposal  by  the  government. 

From  Hilton  Head  Mr.  Beecher  and  his  party  went  on  an  ex- 
cursion visit  to  Beaufort.  The  day,  which  opened  so  bright  and 
beautiful,  was  to  close  in  the  gloom  which  overshadowed  the  na- 
tion. The  near  points  of  interest  about  Beaufort  had  all  been 
seen,  and  the  party,  full  of  the  joyous  brightness  of  the  day, 
were  sauntering  back  to  the  boat  which  was  to  take  them  to  Hil- 
ton Head,  when  a  telegram  was  handed  to  Senator  Wilson  that 
drove  the  smile  from  every  lip.  Lincoln  had  fallen,  struck  down 
by  an  assassin!  Dazed  and  bewildered,  for  a  few  moments  all  stood 
silent ;  then  Mr.  Beecher  exclaimed,  "  It's  time  all  good  men 
were  at  home,"  and  in  mournful  silence  they  hastened  back  to 
Hilton  Head.  The  Sua  Nada  was  ordered  to  get  under  weigh  at 
once.  In  sadness  and  gloom  the  party,  that  but  a  few  days  be- 
fore had  left  New  York  with  hearts  filled  with  joy  and  thankful- 
ness, now  hastened  back  through  dreary  rain-storms — nature's 
sympathetic  mourning. 

We  can  best  describe  that  awful  sorrow  by  quoting  from  Mr. 
Beecher's  sermon  preached  in  memory  of  the  martyr  : 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  455 

"  Never  did  two  such  orbs  of  experience  meet  in  one  hemi- 
sphere as  the  joy  and  the  sorrow  of  the  same  week  in  tins  land. 

The  joy  was  as  Midden  as  it'  no  man  had  expected  it,  and  as 
entrancing  as  it"  it  had  fallen  a  sphere  from  heaven.  It  rose  up 
Over  sobriety,  and  swept  business  from  its  moorings,  and  ran 
down  through  the  land  in  irresistible  course.  Men  embraced 
each  other  in  brotherhood  that  were  strangers  in  the  flesh.  They 
sang,  or  prayed,  or,  deeper  yet,  many  could  only  think  thanks- 
giving and  weep  gladness.  That  peace  was  sure  ;  that  govern- 
ment was  firmer  than  ever  ;  that  the  land  was  cleansed  of  plague; 
that  the  ages  were  opening  to  our  footsteps,  and  we  were  to  begin 
a  march  of  blessings  ;  that  blood  was  stanched,  and  scowling 
enmities  were  sinking  like  storms  beneath  the  horizon  ;  that  the 
dear  fatherland,  nothing  lost,  much  gained,  was  to  rise  up  in  un- 
exampled honor  among  the  nations  of  the  earth — these  thoughts, 
and  that  undistinguishable  throng  of  fancies,  and  hopes,  and  de- 
sires, and  yearnings  that  filled  the  soul  with  tremblings  like  the 
heated  air  of  midsummer  days,  all  these  kindled  up  such  a  surge 
of  joy  as  no  words  may  describe. 

11  In  one  hour  joy  lay  without  a  pulse,  without  a  gleam  or 
breath.  A  sorrow  came  that  swept  through  the  land  as  huge 
storms  sweep  through  the  forest  and  field,  rolling  thunder 
along  the  sky,  dishevelling  the  flowers,  daunting  every  singer  in 
thicket  or  forest,  and  pouring  blackness  and  darkness  across 
the  land  and  up  the  mountains.  Did  ever  so  many  hearts,  in  so 
brief  a  time,  touch  two  such  boundless  feelings  ?  It  was  the 
uttermost  of  joy  :  it  was  the  uttermost  of  sorrow — noon  and 
midnight,  without  a  space  between. 

"  The  blow  brought  not  a  sharp  pang.  It  was  so  terrible  that 
at  first  it  stunned  sensibility.  Citizens  were  like  men  awakened 
at  midnight  by  an  earthquake,  and  bewildered  to  find  everything 
that  they  were  accustomed  to  trust  wavering  and  falling.  The 
very  earth  was  no  longer  solid.  The  first  feeling  was  the  least. 
Men  waited  to  get  straight  to  feel.  They  wandered  in  the  streets 
as  if  groping  after  some  impending  dread,  or  undeveloped  sor- 
row, or  some  one  to  tell  them  what  ailed  them.  They  met  each 
other  as  if  each  would  ask  the  other,  '  Am  I  awake,  or  do  I 
dream  ?'  There  was  a  piteous  helplessness.  Strong  men  bowed 
down  and  wept.  Other  and  common  griefs  belonged  to  some 
one  in  chief  :  this  belonged  to  all.     It  was  each  and  every  man's. 


456  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH  ER. 

Every  virtuous  household  in  the  land  felt  as  if  its  first-born  were 
gone.  Men  were  bereaved,  and  walked  for  days  as  if  a  corpse 
lay  unburied  in  their  dwellings.  There  was  nothing  else  to 
think  of.  They  could  speak  of  nothing  but  that  ;  and  yet  of 
that  they  could  speak  only  falteringly.  All  business  was  laid 
aside.  Pleasure  forgot  to  smile.  The  city  for  nearly  a  week 
ceased  to  roar.  The  great  Leviathan  lay  down  and  was  still. 
Even  avarice  stood  still,  and  greed  was  strangely  moved  to  gen- 
erous sympathy  and  universal  sorrow.  Rear  to  his  name  monu- 
ments, found  charitable  institutions  and  write  his  name  above 
their  lintels  ;  but  no  monument  will  ever  equal  the  universal, 
spontaneous,  and  sublime  sorrow  that  in  a  moment  swept  down 
lines  and  parties,  and  covered  up  animosities,  and  in  an  hour 
brought  a  divided  people  into  unity  of  grief  and  indivisible  fel- 
lowship of  anguish." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Reconstruction — Mr.  Beecher  favors  speedy  Readmission — Soldiers'  and 
Sailors'  Convention  at  Cleveland — The  "Cleveland  Letters''  cause 
gn  at  Excitement. 

WITH  President  Lincoln's  death  the  Rebellion  died.  A  few 
fitful  flames  and  a  few  smouldering  coals  here  and  there 
were  all  that  was  left  of  the  great  conflagration,  but  the 
Rebellion  was  broken  and  dead.  In  its  death-struggles  it  struck 
one  wicked,  random  blow,  and  left  the  victors  mourning  in  the 
very  hour  of  victory — never  was  so  great  a  victory  so  sad  and 
joyless. 

But  the  nation  soon  roused  itself  and  turned  to  the  solution 
of  those  new  problems  which  confronted  it.  Through  four  harsh 
and  bitter  years,  years  of  suffering,  this  peace-loving  nation  had 
been  trained  to  war.  Energetic  fighting  men  had  been  pushed 
forward,  by  the  necessities  of  the  times,  to  the  front,  and  put  in 
command  of  national  affairs.  A  vast  army,  trained  for  fighting, 
was  at  hand.  When  suddenly  the  war  was  at  an  end,  and  he 
who  with  patient  wisdom  had  stood  at  the  helm,  and  guided  the 
nation  through  such  troubled  seas,  was  stricken  down.  A  new 
and  untried  man  was,  by  virtue  of  his  office,  called  to  the  head 
of  the  government.  Armies  were  to  be  disbanded.  The  credit 
of  the  nation  was  to  be  sustained,  and  steps  taken  to  meet  the 
vast  debt  rolled  up  by  the  war.  The  problem  was  changed  :  in- 
stead of  war  was  peace,  disarmament,  and  reconstruction.  Most 
serious  of  all  was  this  question  of  reconstruction — what  to  do 
with  the  conquered  States  and  conquered  people.  Having  re- 
belled and  led  armies  against  the  national  government,  the  lead- 
ers had  been  guilty  of  high  treason.  What  should  be  done  to 
them  ?  Should  they  be  punished,  and,  if  so,  how  ?  What 
should  be  done  with  the  States?  It  had  been  determined  that 
they  should  not  depart  from  the  Union.  They  were  not  in,  and 
how  should  they  be  received  back  ? 

They  had  submitted,  offered  anew  their  loyalty  to  the  gov- 


453  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

ernment  of  the  Nation,  and  asked  to  be  taken  back  again.  The 
passions  of  a  four-years  strife,  and  such  a  strife,  were  slow  to 
subside  ;  boiling  blood  cools  but  slowly.  At  first  a  strong  feel- 
ing of  resentment  set  in,  and  it  was  earnestly  proposed  to  hang 
out  of  hand  the  leading  rebels.  Then  they  proposed  to  hang 
Jefferson  Davis  as  a  symbol  of  defeated  treason,  and  so  vicarious- 
ly punish  the  South.  In  time  even  that  feeling  passed  away. 
But  on  the  question  of  reconstruction  and  readmission  the  feel- 
ings of  the  Republican  party  leaders  ran  high. 

President  Johnson,  himself  a  loyal  Southerner,  was  strongly 
in  favor  of  readmitting  the  Southern  States  to  a  participation  in 
the  government  (upon  such  terms  as  might  be  just),  and  receiving 
Senators  and  Congressmen  from  the  readmitted  States.  To  this 
plan  Congress,  which  was  overwhelmingly  Republican,  was  bitter- 
ly opposed,  and  the  result  was  the  executive  and  legislative 
branches  of  the  government  divided  one  over  against  the  other, 
waging  a  fierce  and  disgraceful  fight — disgraceful  alike  to  each. 
As  in  all  other  matters  that  affected  the  welfare  of  the  govern- 
ment, Mr.  Beecher  was  deeply  interested  in  this,  and  lost  no  op- 
portunity to  express  his  views  from  the  pulpit  and  the  platform. 

He  was  strongly  opposed  to  any  vindictive  course,  and  when 
it  was  proposed  to  make  an  example  of  Jeff  Davis  he  declared  : 

"The  war  is  itself  the  most  terrific  warning  that  could  be  set 
up,  and  to  attempt,  by  erecting  against  this  lurid  background 
the  petty  figure  of  a  gallows  with  a  man  dangling  at  it,  to 
heighten  the  effect,  would  be  like  lighting  tapers  when  God's 
lightnings  are  flashing  across  the  heavens  to  add  to  the  grandeur 
of  the  storm." 

On  the  20th  of  February,  1866,  at  the  Brooklyn  Academy  of 
Music,  in  answer  to  Wendell  Phillips's  lecture  entitled  "  The 
South  Victorious,"  given  a  short  time  previous,  Mr.  Beecher 
delivered  a  speech  which  he  called  "  The  North  Victorious."  In 
this  he  took  a  pronounced  stand  on  the  question  of  reconstruc- 
tion : 

"  Each  day  will  develop  the  prosperity  of  the  South  moving 
upon  the  new  basis,  and  each  day  will  make  it  plainer  and  plainer 
to  them  that  nationality  is  necessary  for  their  prosperity.  Old 
aspirations  must  die.  The  war  passion  must  cease.  It  is  a  new 
South  we  are  talking  about.  It  has  a  new  political  economy.  It 
has  a  new  future.     God  has  said  by  the  side  of  the  sepulchre, 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  459 

'  South,  come  forth  ! '  and  the  South   has  come,  though   bound 
hand   and   foot.      Methinks    1    hear  the   Saviour   say,  '  Loose   her 

and  let  her  go.' 

11  On  the  other  hand,  look  for  one  moment  at  the  effects  of  a 
prolonged  exclusion  of  the  Southern  States.  It  is  weaning  the 
citizens  of  those  States  more  and  more  from  the  national  govern- 
ment. For  five  years  they  have  not  thought  of  Washington 
except  to  curse  her.  They  have  not  felt  the  need  of  it.  They 
have  not  felt  any  blood  running  through  them  that  came  from 
the  national  heart.  It  is  proposed  to  make  them  live  five  years 
more  out  of  the  Union.  Is  that  the  way  to  make  them  love  it? 
Is  that  the  way  to  make  them  feel  their  need  of  the  government  ? 

"  The  utmost  evil  in  admitting  them  that  can  result  will  be 
that  we  shall  be  obliged  to  take  a  longer  time  to  do  some  things 
which  now  we  mean  to  do  by  legislation.  Many  of  the  things 
which  we  seek  to  accomplish  by  laws  we  shall  be  obliged  to  ac- 
complish by  moral  means.  I  have  seen  this  anxiety  to  do  every- 
thing by  legislation,  legislation,  legislation,  waiting  for  it,  and  I 
have  seen  the  power  of  great  moral  causes.  Although  there  is  a 
wisdom  in  legislation  which  I  would  be  far  from  invalidating, 
the  forms  of  wholesome  legislation,  still  I  would  balance  that  by 
the  other  consideration  that  it  may  take  too  long  a  time,  and  we 
may  rely  too  much  upon  legislation.  I  rely  upon  reason  and 
conscience.  Churches  are  my  congresses,  and  school-houses  are 
my  legislators.  Kindness,  equal,  reciprocal,  or  identical  in- 
terests— these  are  renovating  influences  ;  and  I  would  not  wait 
too  long  for  laws,  which  at  best  are  but  as  mills  which  must  run 
by  some  external  power.  What  is  a  windmill  without  wind,  or 
a  water-mill  without  a  stream  of  water  ?  Why  put  a  mill  upon 
the  hill-top  with  a  water-wheel,  or  in  a  valley  if  made  with  a 
sail  ?  What  are  laws  without  public  sentiment  ?  They  are 
water-mills  without  water,  wind-mills  without  wind.  We  must 
fall  back  upon  moral  force.  It  may  take  a  little  more  time,  but 
we  shall  do  the  work  more  thoroughly  ;  and  I  believe  we  shall 
yet  see  the  day  when,  throughout  the  South,  they  will  show  an 
enthusiasm  for  liberty,  and  schools,  and  churches,  and  colleges, 
such  as  we  have  never  seen  even  in  the  North  ;  when  every  man 
shall  sit  under  his  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  blessed  and  blessing." 

Shortly  after  the  assassination  of  President  Lincoln  he  said, 
referring  to  its  effect  upon  the  South : 


460  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  I  know  not  how  this  may  turn,  so  far  as  the  South  is  con- 
cerned ;  I  know  not  but  that  the  cords  will  be  drawn  tighter 
than  they  would  have  been  if  Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  spared  ;  vet 
1  am  not  without  hope  that  those  men  who  have  for  four  years 
learned  almost  nothing  but  to  curse  the  name  of  our  beloved  and 
now  martyred  President,  with  the  beginning  of  better  thoughts 
and  feelings  may,  by  sorrow  and  by  grief,  be  led  back  again 
toward  a  national  feeling.  The  North  has  been  unified  by  a 
sorrow  of  one  kind  ;  and  I  would  fain  hope  that  God,  in  His 
providence,  will  make  use  of  this  great  affliction  to  produce  the 
beginnings  of  compunction  and  the  return  of  national  feeling 
throughout  the  South.  And  so  the  death  of  Mr.  Lincoln  may  be 
blessed  to  them  as  well  as  to  us. 

"  But,  brethren,  my  heart  goes  out  toward  my  whole  country. 
I  mourn  for  those  outcast  States.  The  bitterness  of  their  de- 
struction ;  the  wrath  that  has  come  upon  them  ;  their  desolation 
— you  know  nothing  of  these.  The  sublimest  monument  that 
has  ever  been  reared  in  this  world  to  testify  God's  abhorrence  of 
cruelty  and  rebellion  has  its  base  as  broad  as  fifteen  States.  No 
pyramid  was  ever  lifted  up  in  such  awful  majesty  as  is  the  pyra- 
midal overthrow  of  these  fifteen  States.  And  I  pray  God  that 
this  last,  crudest,  wickedest  .offspring  of  the  Rebellion  maybe 
an  expiation  through  which  they  shall  be  redeemed.  Christ, 
when  He  died,  prayed  for  those  that  crucified  Him,  and  instead 
of  asking  vengeance  on  them,  said  :  '  Father,  forgive  them,  for 
they  know  not  what  they  do.'  " 

Just  before  going  to  Fort  Sumter  in  April,  1865,  he  said 
from  his  pulpit  : 

"  I  would  be  no  man's  servant  to  go  to  add  additional  sorrows 
to  those  that  already  press  and  weigh  down  the  South.  ...  I  go 
to  say  to  them,  '  Sound  government  has  come  back  ;  beneficent 
government  has  come  back  ;  the  day  has  dawned  ;  and,  as  breth- 
ren to  brethren,  I  come  to  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy 
— a  feeling  that  was  more  fully  expressed  in  his  speech  at  the  fort. 

Shortly  after  Johnson  had  been  called  to  the  presidential 
chair,  and  before  the  open  rupture  with  Congress  and  his  subse- 
quent extravagant  follies,  Mr.  Beecher  wrote  him  : 

"  The  two  points  that  have  lain  most  at  my  heart  are  : 

"  1.  That  the  government  should  not  allow  itself,  by  any 
temptation,  to  invade   the  true  State  rights.     The  temptation  is 


RE  I '.  HENR  V   ir.l  RD  BEECHER.  4O  l 

strong.     But  the  precedent  established  might  by  and  by  plunge 
us  again  into  great  trials,  and  even  conflicts. 

"  2.  The  other  point  is,  the  necessity  of  securing  for  freedmen 
the  kindness  and  good-will  of  Southern  white  men.  Their  fate- 
will  largely  depend  upon  their  neighbors'  dispositions  toward 
them.  Northern  people  nor  the  government  can  hold  them  up 
long  if  all  the  State  populations  around  them  are  inimical. 

"  In  both  these  respects,  as  in  others,  I  perceive  that  your 
sentiments  are  enlightened  and  statesmanlike. 

"  May  it  please  Almighty  God  to  endue  you  with  health  and 
strength  to  complete  the  work  which  you  have  so  auspiciously 
begun  !  " 

By  the  autumn  of  1866  there  had  grown  up  in  the  Republi- 
can party  quite  a  minority,  called  "  Conservative  Republicans," 
who  were  opposed  to  the  policy  of  exclusion  ;  and  an  effort  was 
made  that  fall  to  elect  Congressmen  who  would  be  in  favor  of 
admitting  the  Southern  States  again  under  such  terms  and  re- 
strictions as  might  be  deemed  necessary.  This  feeling  was  quite 
marked  among  the  soldiers  themselves,  wrho,  with  the  chivalry 
natural  to  bravery,  were  opposed  to  humiliating  a  conquered 
enemy.  In  September  a  National  Convention  of  Soldiers  and 
Sailors  was  called  to  be  held  on  the  17th  in  Cleveland,  Ohio,  to 
give  expression  to  this  feeling.  The  preparatory  committee  sent 
to  Mr.  Beecher  an  invitation  to  serve  as  chaplain  to  the  conven- 
tion, saying  in  it  : 

"Your  name  has  been  selected  by  the  Executive  Committee 
from  sincere  admiration  of  your  character,  and  as  the  only  tribute 
within  their  power  to  pay  in  acknowledgment  of  your  noble  de- 
votion to  the  cause  of  the  Union,  and  your  earnest  and  unceas- 
ing efforts  in  behalf  of  our  soldiers  and  sailors  during  the  recent 
war. 

"  The  Executive  Committee  also  find  in  your  course  since  the 
termination  of  the  struggle  substantial  harmony  with  the  views 
to  which  they  desire  to  give  effect  in  the  convention — your  elo- 
quence and  the  just  weight  of  your  name  being  employed  to  en- 
force upon  the  country  a  generous  and  magnanimous  policy 
toward  the  people  of  the  lately  rebellious  States,  and  a  prompt 
reconstruction  of  the  Union  under  the  Constitution  as  the  best 
means  of  regaining  the  national  tranquillity  which  the  country  so 
much  needs,  and  readjusting  the  rights  of  all  sections,  under  the 


462 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


new  order  of  things,  on  a  basis  of  law,  order,  Christian  brother- 
hood, and  justice. 

"In  the  call  for  the  convention,  which  the  undersigned  have 
the  honor  to  transmit  herewith,  you  will  see  fully  set  forth  the 
motives  which  actuate  the  military  and  naval  defenders  of  the 
Union  in  their  present  unusual  course  of  taking  part  in  a  politi- 
cal movement  ;  and  it  is  our  hope — as  we  have  always  looked  to 
you  in  the  darkest  days  of  the  war  for  inspiration,  aid,  and  the 
cheering  sympathy  of  a  noble  heart,  never  failing  to  find  them — 
that  you  will  consent  to  invoke  the  Divine  Blessing  upon  the 
Convention  of  the  Soldiers  and  Sailors  of  the  United  States  who 
served  during  the  late  Rebellion,  and  who- approve  the  restoration 
policy  of  President  Johnson  and  the  principles  announced  by  the 
recent  national  convention  of  Philadelphia — the  first  convention 
since  i860  in  which  all  the  States  of  our  beloved  Union  were 
represented." 

As  the  convention  was  called  for  a  time  when  he  was  pros- 
trated by  his  annual  "  hay  cold,"  he  was  obliged  to  decline,  but 
wrote  to  them  what  has  since  become  famous  as  his  first  Cleve- 
land letter. 

This  invitation,  which  seems  so  proper  and  natural  to-day,  and 
the  letter  in  reply  recapitulating  the  views  which,  as  we  have  seen, 
had  been  expressed  again  and  again  in  public,  to  the  intense  as- 
tonishment of  Mr.  Beecher  produced  a  perfect  tornado,  and  for 
a  few  days  he  was  in  the  centre  of  a  wild  and  furious  whirlwind 
that  threatened  to  destroy  his  influence  in  public  affairs — then 
very  great — and  even  to  rend  his  church  asunder.  It  seems  im- 
possible, as  we  look  back  twenty  years,  to  believe  that  such  re- 
sults could  have  followed  such  a  cause. 

It  would  seem,  as  we  follow  the  exposition  of  his  views  almost 
daily  on  this  subject,  as  though  the  public,  and  certainly  his 
friends,  would  have  become  fully  accustomed  to  them,  and  would 
have  recognized  the  object  for  which  he  strove  ;  and  the  sudden, 
almost  blind  outburst  of  anger,  indignation,  and  grief  that  fol- 
lowed the  Cleveland  letter,  can  only  be  explained  on  the  theory 
that  the  course  of  President  Johnson  had  so  exasperated  the 
Northern  feelings,  that  the  people,  fairly  beside  themselves  with 
anger,  indignation,  and  suspicion,  could  see  nothing  right  in  what 
he  did  or  advised,  and  would  not  permit  any  one  to  speak  a 
kind  word  either  for  him  or  any  of  the  views  that  he  advocated. 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER.  463 

Eighteen  years  later,  looking  hack  upon  the  accomplishment 
of  that  which  he  had  so  strenuously  advocated,  and  seeing  men 
commending  as  wisdom  that  which  they  had  then  condemned  as 

folly,  he  recalls  this  incident  in  his  life,  which,  like  many  others 
before  and  since,  awaked  the  mournful  prophecies  of  timid  friends. 
From  his  Thanksgiving  sermon,  November  27,  1884,  we  quote  : 

u  But  one  thing  more  was  needed,  and  that  was  to  chase  the 
scowl  from  the  Southern  brow  ;  to  revive  the  old  friendship  ;  to 
clasp  hands  again  in  a  vow  of  loving  and  patriotic  zeal.  It  was 
given  to  us  last,  because  it  is  the  greatest  of  God's  gifts.  There 
never  has  been  such  a  scene  since  the  earth  was  born  ;  there 
never  has  been  such  a  rupture,  never  such  a  conflict,  never  such 
a  victory,  never  such  a  reconstruction,  never  such  restoration  of 
integrity  in  business,  never  such  a  reconciliation  and  gladness 
between  good  men  on  both  sides,  as  come  to  us  to-day.  As  yet 
the  eyes  of  many  are  holden,  and  they  cannot  see  how  great  a 
blessing  God  has  brought  to  our  unbelieving  eyes  and  timid 
hands.  From  the  bottom  of  my  soul  I  believe  in  the  honor  and 
integrity  of  thoughtful  Southern  men  ;  and  when  I  get  from 
them  such  letters  as  I  do,  and  hear  from  their  lips  such  declara- 
tions as  I  hear,  that  they  feel  at  last  that  they  are  in  and  of  the 
Union,  as  much  as  we,  and  point  to  the  flag,  declaring,  with 
tears,  'That  is  now  my  flag,'  I  believe  it  ;  I  should  be  faithless 
to  God  and  to  Providence  if  I  did  not.  I  believe  it  with  an 
enthusiasm  of  faith,  and  with  a  longing  heart  of  love  ;  for  I 
think  they  are  above  hypocrisy  or  insincerity,  and  that,  if  we 
choose,  the  last  cloud  will  rise  from  between  us  and  then  pass 
away  for  ever. 

"  Moses,  after  forty  years  of  toil,  was  allowed  to  see  the  pro- 
mised land  from  afar  off  only.  Less  worthy,  yet  more  blessed, 
I  am  spared  to  go  over  with  the  rejoicing  tribes  into  the  land 
flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  What  am  I,  or  my  father's  house, 
that  to  me  should  be  given  the  privilege  of  laboring  in  all  this 
drama,  and  seeing  it  end  nobly  thus  ?  The  discipline  is  com- 
plete, and  to  the  end  of  time  this  great  epic  of  liberty,  our  strug- 
gle with  slavery,  will  shine  like  the  sun. 

"  Not  the  least  joyful  element  in  this  reconciliation  is  the 
assured  safety  and  benefit  which  will  accrue  to  the  colored  race. 
That  has  come  to  pass  which  was  their  only  safety.  Just  as 
soon  as  the  Southern  statesmen  accept  the  perfect  restoration  of 


464  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

themselves  to  the  great  body  politic,  and  find  that  there  is  no 
division,  as  between  Northern  men  and  Southern  men,  in  any  of 
the  honors  of  government  ;  just  as  soon  as  they  are  in  and  a 
part  of  every  administration — as,  thank  God  !  they  will  be — just  so 
soon  of  necessity  that  will  take  place  which  has  taken  place 
everywhere,  in  every  community  :  there  will  be  the  party  of  ad- 
ministration, the  '  ins,'  and  the  party  opposed  to  them,  the  op- 
position, the  '  outs.'  The  moment  you  have  these  two  parties, 
each  party  has  a  sentinel  watching  it.  In  the  South  that  will 
take  place  which  is  the  salvation  of  the  colored  race.  As  long 
as  they  were  a  fringe  upon  a  Northern  party  the  South  was  con- 
densed and  solidified  against  it.  As  soon  as  they  are  divided  at 
home  between  the  administrational  party  and  the  opposition 
party,  they  will  be  guarded  and  taken  care  of.  The  administra- 
tion party  will  not  allow  its  voters  to  be  injured  ;  the  opposition 
party  will  not  allow  its  voters  to  be  injured.  They  will  be  dis- 
tributed as  they  should  be,  and  the  strength  of  each  party  in  the 
South  will  be  the  safeguard  of  the  intermediate  voters.  I  regard 
this  now,  with  schools  and  academies  and  various  seminaries 
spread  among  them,  as  the  final  step  of  emancipation. 

"  It  is  in  these  views  that  I  have  acted  ;  and  in  the  calmest 
retrospect  I  now  rejoice  that  I  was  able  to  act  so. 

"  The  greatest  mistake  of  my  life  has  happened  twice,  as  I 
have  been  informed. 

"I  was  in  1866  invited  to  act  as  chaplain  to  the  convention 
called  at  the  city  of  Cleveland,  Ohio,  of  the  soldiers  and  sailors 
of  our  army  and  navy.  The  object  of  that  convention  was  to  so 
shape  our  Northern  politics  as  to  bring  the  Southern  States  back 
immediately,  or  as  soon  as  possible  ;  and  in  that  general  tenden- 
cy I  sympathized. 

"The  question  of  reconstruction  of  the  seceding  States 
was  under  discussion,  and  feeling  ran  high,  not  alone  on  ac- 
count of  the  nature  of  the  work  to  be  done,  but  also  by  reason 
of  the  disturbed  relations  between  President  Johnson  and  Con- 
gress. 

"  President  Lincoln  had  been  assassinated,  and  Johnson  had 
assumed  his  place.  The  statesmen  whose  vigor  and  courage  had 
carried  the  country  through  the  civil  war  were  less  adapted  to 
the  delicate  task  of  restoring  the  discordant  States  to  peace  and 
unity  than  they  had  been  to  the  sudden  duties  of  war. 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  465 

"  In  a  general  way  there  were  two  panics  ;  one  counselling  a 
speedy  readjustment,  and  the  other  a  longer  probation. 

"  President  Lincoln  and  Governor  Andrew,  of  Massachusetts, 

in  the  last  conversations  which  I  had  with  them,  inclined  to  the 
policy  of  immediate  restoration  ;  and  their  views  had  great 
weight  with  me.  It  was  in  the  interest  of  such  a  policy  that  the 
Cleveland  convention  was  called. 

"  My  first  letter  was  in  reply  to  the  invitation  from  the  con- 
vention : 

"'  Peekskill,  N.  Y.,  August  30,  1866. 
"'Chas.  G.  Halpine,  Brevet  Brig.-Gen.;  H.  W.  Slocu.m,  Major- 
Gen. ;  Gordon  Granger,  Major-Gen.,  Committee  : 

"'Gentlemen  :  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the  invitation  which 
you  have  made  to  me  to  act  as  chaplain  to  the  Convention  of 
Sailors  and  Soldiers  about  to  convene  at  Cleveland.  I  cannot 
attend  it,  but  I  heartily  wish  it  and  all  other  conventions,  of  what 
party  soever,  success,  whose  object  is  the  restoration  of  all  the 
States  late  in  rebellion  to  their  federal  relations. 

11 '  Our  theory  of  government  has  no  place  for  a  State  except 
in  the  Union.  It  is  justly  taken  for  granted  that  the  duties  and 
responsibilities  of  a  State  in  federal  relations  tend  to  its  political 
health  and  to  that  of  the  whole  nation.  Even  Territories  are 
hastily  brought  in,  often  before  the  prescribed  conditions  are  ful- 
filled, as  if  it  were  dangerous  to  leave  a  community  outside  of  the 
great  body  politic. 

" '  Had  the  loyal  senators  and  representatives  of  Tennessee 
been  admitted  at  once  on  the  assembling  of  Congress,  and,  in 
moderate  succession,  Arkansas,  Georgia,  Alabama,  North  Caro- 
lina, and  Virginia,  the  public  mind  of  the  South  would  have  been 
far  more  healthy  than  it  is,  and  those  States  which  lingered  on 
probation  to  the  last  would  have  been  under  a  more  salutary  in- 
fluence to  good  conduct  than  if  a  dozen  armies  had  watched 
over  them. 

" '  Every  month  that  we  delay  this  healthful  step  complicates 
the  case.  The  excluded  population,  enough  unsettled  before, 
grows  more  irritable ;  the  army  becomes  indispensable  to  local 
government  and  supersedes  it  ;  the  government  at  Washington 
is  called  to  interfere  in  one  and  another  difficulty,  and  this  will 
be   done   inaptly,   and   sometimes  with   great   injustice  ;  for  our 


466  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

government,  wisely  adapted  to  its  own  proper  functions,  is  utterly 
devoid  of  those  habits,  and  unequipped  with  the  instruments, 
which  fit  a  centralized  government  to  exercise  authority  in  re- 
mote States  over  local  affairs.  Every  attempt  to  perform  such 
duties  has  resulted  in  mistakes  which  have  excited  the  nation. 
But  whatever  imprudence  there  may  be  in  the  method,  the  real 
criticism  should  be  against  the  requisition  of  such  duties  of  the 
general  government. 

The  federal  government  is  unfit  to  exercise  minor  police 
and  local  government,  and  will  inevitably  blunder  when  it  at- 
tempts it.  To  keep  a  half-score  of  States  under  federal  author- 
ity, but  without  national  ties  and  responsibilities  ;  to  oblige  the 
central  authority  to  govern  half  of  the  territory  of  the  Union  by 
federal  civil  officers  and  by  the  army,  is  a  policy  not  only  un- 
congenial to  our  ideas  and  principles,  but  pre-eminently  danger- 
ous to  the  spirit  of  our  government.  However  humane  the  ends 
sought  and  the  motive,  it  is,  in  fact,  a  course  of  instruction  pre- 
paring our  government  to  be  despotic,  and  familiarizing  the 
people  to  a  stretch  of  authority  which  can  never  be  other  than 
dangerous  to  liberty. 

"  '  I  am  aware  that  good  men  are  withheld  from  advocating  the 
prompt  and  successive  admission  of  the  exiled  States  by  the  fear, 
chiefly,  of  its  effect  upon  the  freedmen. 

" '  It  is  said  that,  if  admitted  to  Congress,  the  Southern  sena- 
tors and  representatives  will  coalesce  with  Northern  Democrats 
and  rule  the  country.  Is  this  nation,  then,  to  remain  dismem- 
bered to  serve  the  ends  of  parties  ?  Have  we  learned  no  wisdom 
by  the  history  of  the  past  ten  years,  in  which  just  this  course  of 
sacrificing  the  nation  to  the  exigencies  of  parties  plunged  us  into 
rebellion  and  war  ? 

" '  Even  admit  that  the  power  would  pass  into  the  hands  of  a 
party  made  up  of  Southern  men  and  the  hitherto  dishonored  and 
misled  Democracy  of  the  North,  that  power  could  not  be  used 
just  as  they  pleased.  The  war  has  changed,  not  alone  institu- 
tions, but  ideas.  The  whole  country  has  advanced.  Public 
sentiment  is  exalted  far  beyond  what  it  has  been  at  any  former 
period.  A  new  party  would,  like  a  river,  be  obliged  to  seek  out 
its  channels  in  the  already  existing  slopes  and  forms  of  the  con- 
tinent. .  .  . 

" '  I  hear  with  wonder,  and  shame,  and  scorn  the  fear  of  a  few 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  467 

that  the  South,  once  more  in  adjustment  frith  the  federal 
eminent,  will  rule  this  nation  !  The  North  is  rich,  never  so  rich  ; 
the  South  is  poor,  never  before  so  poor.  The  population  of  the 
North  is  nearly  double  that  of  the  South.  The  industry  of  the 
North,  in  diversity,  in  forwardness  and  productiveness,  in  all  the 
machinery  and  education  required  for  manufacturing,  is  half  a 
century  in  advance  of  the  South.  Churches  in  the  North  crown 
every  hill,  and  schools  swarm  in  every  neighborhood  ;  while  the 
South  has  but  scattered  lights,  at  long  distances,  like  light-houses 
twinkling  along  the  edge  of  a  continent  of  darkness.  In  the  pre- 
sence of  such  a  contrast  how  mean  and  craven  is  the  fear  that 
the  South  will  rule  the  policy  of  the  land  !  That  it  will  have  an 
influence,  that  it  will  contribute,  in  time,  most  important  influ- 
ences or  restraints,  we  are  glad  to  believe.  But  if  it  rises  at  once 
to  the  control  of  the  government  it  will  be  because  the  North, 
demoralized  by  prosperity  and  besotted  by  grovelling  interests, 
refuses  to  discharge  its  share  of  political  duty.  In  such  a  case 
the  South  not  only  will  control  the  government,  but  ought  to 
do  it. 

" '  It  is  feared,  with  more  reason,  that  the  restoration  of  the 
South  to  her  full  independence  will  be  detrimental  to  the  freed- 
men.  The  sooner  we  dismiss  from  our  minds  the  idea  that  the 
freedmen  can  be  classified  and  separated  from  the  white  popu- 
lation, and  nursed  and  defended  by  themselves,  the  better  it  will 
be  for  them  and  us.  The  negro  is  part  and  parcel  of  South- 
ern society.  He  cannot  be  prosperous  while  it  is  unprospered. 
Its  evils  will  rebound  upon  him.  Its  happiness  and  reinvigora- 
tion  cannot  be  kept  from  his  participation.  The  restoration  of 
the  South  to  amicable  relations  with  the  North,  the  reorganiza- 
tion of  its  industry,  the  reinspiration  of  its  enterprise  and  thrift, 
will  all  redound  to  the  freedman's  benefit.  Nothing  is  so  danger- 
ous to  the  freedman  as  an  unsettled  state  of  society  in  the  South. 
On  him  comes  all  the  spite,  and  anger,  and  caprice,  and  revenge. 
He  will  be  made  the  scapegoat  of  lawless  and  heartless  men. 
Unless  we  turn  the  government  into  a  vast  military  machine, 
there  cannot  be  armies  enough  to  protect  the  freedmen  while 
Southern  society  remains  insurrectionary.  If  Southern  society 
is  calmed,  settled,  and  occupied,  and  soothed  with  new  hopes 
and  prosperous  industries,  no  armies  will  be  needed.  Riots 
will    subside,   lawless    hangers-on   will   be  driven   off    or    better 


468  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

governed,  and  a  way  will  be  gradually  opened  to  the  freedmen, 
through  education  and  industry,  to  full  citizenship  with  all  its 
honors  and  duties. 

"  '  Civilization  is  a  growth.  None  can  escape  that  forty  years 
in  the  wilderness  who  travel  from  the  Egypt  of  ignorance  to  the 
promised  land  of  civilization.  The  freedmen  must  take  their 
march.  I  have  full  faith  in  the  results.  If  they  have  the  stamina 
to  undergo  the  hardships  which  every  uncivilized  people  has  un- 
dergone in  its  upward  progress,  they  will  in  due  time  take  their 
place  among  us.  That  place  cannot  be  bought,  nor  bequeathed, 
nor  gained  by  sleight  of  hand.  It  will  come  to  sobriety,  virtue, 
industry,  and  frugality.  As  the  nation  cannot  be  sound  until  the 
South  is  prosperous,  so,  on  the  other  extreme,  a  healthy  condition 
of  civil  society  in  the  South  is  indispensable  to  the  welfare  of  the 
freedmen. 

"  '  Refusing  to  admit  loyal  senators  and  representatives  from 
the  South  to  Congress  will  not  help  the  freedmen.  It  will  not 
secure  for  them  the  vote.  It  will  not  protect  them.  It  will  not 
secure  any  amendment  of  our  Constitution,  however  just  and 
wise.  It  will  only  increase  the  dangers  and  complicate  the  diffi- 
culties. Whether  we  regard  the  whole  nation  or  any  section  of 
it  or.  class  in  it,  the  first  demand  of  our  time  is  entire  reunion  ! 

"  '  Once  united,  we  can,'by  schools,  churches,  a  free  press,  and 
increasing  free  speech,  attack  every  evil  and  secure  every  good. 
Meanwhile,  the  great  chasm  which  rebellion  has  made  is  not 
filled  up.  It  grows  deeper  and  stretches  wider  !  Out  of  it  rise 
dread  spectres  and  threatening  sounds.  Let  that  gulf  be  closed, 
and  bury  in  it  slavery,  sectional  animosity,  and  all  strifes  and 
hatreds  ! 

" '  It  is  fit  that  the  brave  men  who,  on  sea  and  land,  faced 
death  to  save  this  nation,  should  now,  by  their  voice  and  vote, 
consummate  what  their  swords  rendered  possible. 

" '  For  the  sake  of  the  freedmen,  for  the  sake  of  the  South  and 
its  millions  of  our  fellow-countrymen,  for  our  own  sake,  and  for 
the  great  cause  of  freedom  and  civilization,  I  urge  the  immediate 
reunion  of  all  the  parts  of  this  Union  which  rebellion  and  war 
have  shattered.  I  am,  truly  yours, 

"'Henry  Ward  Beecher.'" 

This  letter  was  published  by  the  convention  in  the  hope  that 


REV.  HENRY  WARD   BEECHER,  469 

it  would  make  an  impression  on  the  public  Blind.  It  did.  Their 
most  sanguine  expectations  were  more  than  realized  in  that  re- 
spect  Hut  it  was  a  step  in  advance  of  the  prevailing  public 
sentiment,  and,  like  such  steps,  was  largely  misunderstood  or 
misrepresented. 

The  partisan  Republican  press  at  once  assailed  Mr.  Beech- 
er,  some  bitterly,  some  indignantly,  and  some  compassionately. 
Read  hastily,  it  was  construed  as  a  declaration  against  the  Re- 
publican party  and  in  favor  of  President  Johnson,  who  by  this 
time  had  come  in  violent  collision  with  Congress  and  the  gene- 
ral sentiment  of  the  North.  The  President's  course  was  re- 
led  a^  treacherous,  and  a  feeling  of  hatred  was  spreading 
through  the  North,  so  intense  that  it  was  only  necessary  for  him 
to  advocate  any  measure  to  have  it  looked  upon  with  suspicion 
and  be  bitterly  opposed.  Many  of  Mr.  Beecher's  personal  friends 
were  alarmed  and  distressed,  fearing  that  he  was  giving  aid  and 
comfort  to  the  enemy.  He  was  overwhelmed  with  letters  full  of 
fear — fear  for  the  country,  fear  for  the  Republican  party,  fear  for 
him  and  his  future  usefulness.  Some  who  had  been  among  his 
intimate  friends  attacked  him  openly  and  fiercely  in  the  public 
prints.  The  Independent,  whose  editorship  he  had  but  recently 
resigned,  and  to  which  he  was  still  a  regular  contributor,  in  its 
leading  editorial,  from  the  pen  of  Theodore  Tilton,  attacked  him 
with  intense  and  persistent  bitterness.  Writing  shortly  after- 
wards to  a  friend,  he  said  : 

"  The  rage  and  abuse  of  excited  men  I  have  too  long  been 
used  to,  now  to  be  surprised  or  daunted.  ...  I  stood  almost 
alone,  my  church,  in  my  absence,  full  of  excitement ;  all  my  min- 
isterial brethren,  with  a  few  honorable  exceptions,  either  aloof 
or  in  clamor  against  me ;  well-nigh  the  whole  religious  press  de- 
nouncing me,  and  the  political  press  furious." 

On  the  other  hand,  many  thoughtful,  earnest  men  agreed  with 
the  letter  and  commended  it  most  earnestly.  We  quote  from 
a  letter  received  from  Dr.  Stephen  H.  Tyng  as  a  type  of  this 
class  : 

"  I  have  just  read  your  admirable  letter  in  the  Times  of  to- 
day. My  eyes  are  wet  with  tears  of  sympathy  and  thanksgiving. 
You  have  expressed  in  terms  and  with  beauty  peculiar  to  your- 
self precisely  what  I  have  in  my  humble  way  thought  and  felt. 
.  .  .  The  recognition   and  establishment  of  our  Union  on  the 


470  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

basis  of  undisputed  loyalty  to  the  national  government,  un- 
limited liberty  to  the  people,  universal  fidelity  in  payment  of  our 
responsibility,  and  generous  reciprocation  and  acknowledgment 
of  mutual  kindness  and  confidence  among  all  portions  of  our 
territory  and  all  classes  of  our  people,  is  to  me  the  one  great 
immediate  end  for  us  to  strive  for.  I  have  not  a  doubt  that  all 
our  interests  and  hopes,  social,  moral,  and  economical,  are  far 
safer  in  the  union  of  our  States  and  the  complete  acknowledg- 
ment of  them  all,  than  they  can  be  in  its  refusal — nay,  that  they 
are  safe  in  no  other  course.  I  cannot  justify  the  partisan  and 
acrimonious  action  which  resists  and  impedes  this  immediate 
union.  .  .  .  The  country  has  been  much  indebted  to  you  for 
faithful  and  powerful  defence,  but  it  has  never  had  more  occa- 
sion to  honor  you  than  for  the  letter  which  I  have  read  this 
morning.   .  .  ." 

The  reply  to  Dr.  Tyng,  written  some  days  before  the  second 
letter,  is  valuable  as  showing  how  little  his  critics  understood 
Mr.  Beecher's  position,  and  with  what  unreasonable  and  passion- 
blinded  haste  they  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  aban- 
doned the  Republican  party,  become  a  Johnson  man,  Copper- 
head, etc.: 

"  Peekskill,  Sept.  6,  1866. 
"  My  dear  Dr.  Tyng  : 

"Your  kind  letter  surprised  and  delighted  me,  and  has  been 
a  great  comfort  withal.  You  perhaps  are  aware  by  this  time 
that  my  letter  has  been  excessively  distasteful  to  the  great  body 
of  men  with  whom  I  have  acted,  and  to  my  own  congregation. 
Nothing  but  a  deep  sense  of  public  danger,  to  which  the  eyes 
of  our  best  men  seem  blind,  induced  me  to  write  it.  The  senti- 
ments contained  in  it  I  had,  in  speeches  and  lectures,  openly 
declared  in  all  the  principal  cities  of  the  East  during  the  whole 
winter  and  spring,  and  I  was  therefore  not  a  little  surprised  at 
the  wonder  and  excitement  with  which  they  have  now  been  re- 
ceived. 

"  I  attribute  it  to  the  sharp  issue  made  by  Mr.  Johnson  and 
Congress,  and  to  the  exasperation  of  the  public  mind  with  the 
President,  especially  his  most  unwise  speeches  made  during  his 
present  tour.  I  am  far  from  being  a  Johnson  man.  I  am  an  ad- 
vocate of  the  principles  of  speedy  readjustment,  without  waiting 
for  a  greater  but  at  present  unattainable  good.     I  am,  however, 


RE  I '.  HENR  V  WA  RD  BEECHER.  4  7  1 

constrained  to  say  that  Mr.  Johnson  just  now  and  for  souk-  time 
past  has  been  the  greatest  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  own  views. 
The  mere  fact  that  he  holds  them  is  their  condemnation  with  a 

public-  utterly  exasperated  with  li is  rudeness  and  violence.  The 
rui  111  is,  however,  just  as  important  as  if  it  had  a  wiser  advo- 
cate. 

"  Things  may  go  so  far  that  no  choice  will  be  left  but  between 
a  Copperhead  Johnson  party  and  a  radical  Republican,  and  I 
cannot  for  a  moment  hesitate  on  which  side  I  shall  be,  or  rather 
already  am. 

"  The  moral  sentiment  of  justice,  liberty,  and  Christian  pro- 
gress is  with  the  Republican  side.  There  are  the  men  whom  I 
most  esteem,  and  with  whom  I  have  always  acted,  and  for  whom 
first  and  last  I  have  wished  success. 

"  For  that  very  reason  I  have  desired  and  labored  assiduously 
to  secure  to  them  more  practical  views  than  those  at  first  pecu- 
liar to  a  few  extreme  men,  but  which,  partly  by  the  President's 
indiscretions,  partly  by  the  inflammation  of  the  public  mind  and 
the  adroitness  with  which  things  have  been  managed  by  a  few, 
seem  likely  to  become  the  enthusiastic  belief  of  the  whole  com- 
munity, or  of  a  large  majority.  I  must  submit  to  things  which  I 
cannot  control.  Should  things  turn  out  better  than  my  fears  I 
shall  be  glad  to  find  myself  a  false  prophet.  But  I  confess  that 
the  cause  of  the  freedmen,  which  lies  near  my  heart,  looks  gloomy 
in  the  future.  With  a  very  Southern  South  and  a  very  Northern 
North  I  do  not  see  but  they  will  be  ground  to  powder.  But  God 
rules — that  is  my  unfailing  comfort.  His  cause  gains  as  well 
by  disaster  as  by  success.     Good  and  evil  both  serve  Him.  .  .  ." 

On  the  7th  of  September  Mr.  Beecher  received  a  letter  from 
Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs,  then  an  intimate  friend,  which  expressed  the 
feelings  of  not  a  few  of  his  friends.  In  this  he  urged  Mr. 
Beecher  to  make  a  fuller  and  more  explicit  statement  of  his 
position,  and  to  show  plainly  that  he  was  not  in  sympathy  with 
Johnson,  Seward,  etc.,  in  their  general  attitude.  "  A  vast  num- 
ber of  people  who  have  loved  and  honored  you  for  years  are 
really  beginning  to  believe  that  you  have  gone  over  bodily  ;  of 
course  all  those  who  know  you  as  I  do,  know  this  to  be  an 
utter  misapprehension  of  your  position." 

Many  of  the  members  of  Plymouth  Church  shared  the  com- 


472  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

mon  misapprehension,  while  many  saw  plainly  what  Mr.  Beecher 
wras  seeking,  and  sympathized  with  him.  As  a  consequence  the 
church  was  deeply  stirred  and  in  commotion. 

To  quote  again  from  Mr.  Beecher  : 

"  Not  many  days  after,  President  Johnson  began  that  ill-fav- 
ored journey,  known  as  'swinging  around  the  circle,'  during  the 
progress  of  which  his  temper,  attitude,  and  injudicious  speeches 
thoroughly  alarmed  the  community. 

"  It  was  believed  that  he  was  betraying  the  country,  and  that 
all  that  had  been  gained  by  the  war  was  about  to  be  lost  by  the 
treachery  of  the  President.  The  public  mind  was  greatly  in- 
flamed, and  my  Cleveland  letter  was  received  with  violent  pro- 
tests. Many  personal  friends  and  members  of  Plymouth  Church 
were  greatly  exercised. 

"  There  was  a  great  pother  made  about  that.  My  own  friends 
were  very  hot.  Some  dove  into  the  newspapers,  some  into  let- 
ters. They  flew  thick  and  fast  all  around  about  me.  Neighbor- 
ing ministers  thought  that  I  was  unseated  and  disrupted  for  ever. 
In  the  midst  of  it  all  I  knew  I  was  right,  and  that  if  I  had  pa- 
tience others  would  know  that  I  was  right.  And  they  did, 
though  they  still  talk  about  that  greatest  blunder  of  my  life,  '  the 
Cleveland  letter.'  I  am  going  to  send  down  that  document  to 
my  children  as  one  of  the  most  glorious  things  that  I  ever  did 
in  my  life.  But  such  was  the  excitement  and  clamor  that  I 
thought  it  wise  to  alleviate  the  fear  and  trouble  of  my  people  by 
giving  a  fuller  view  of  the  ground  of  my  first  letter  and  to 
confute  the  idea  that  I  had  abandoned  the  Republican  party,  so 
I  wrote  the  second  letter  to  a  friend  to  read  to  the  church, 
assuming  the  same  position,  but  with  explanatory  reasoning." 
This  was  the  second  so-called  "  Cleveland  Letter  "  : 

We  give  a  few  extracts  from  this  letter,  which  was  a  very  long 
one,  covering  nearly  the  same  ground  as  the  first,  only  giving  his 
reasons  more  fully: 

"  Peekskill,  Saturday,  Sept.  8,  1866. 
"  My  dear  : 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  letter.  I  am  sorry  that  my 
friends  and  my  congregation  are  grieved  by  my  Cleveland 
letter. 

"  This  feeling,  however,  has  no  just  grounds,  whatever  may 
be  the  seeming.     I  have  not  left,  and  do  not  propose  to  leave, 


RE  I '.  HEX  A'  Y  ir.l  RI)  BEECHER.  473 

oi  to  be  put  out  of,  the  Republican  party.  1  am  in  sympathy 
with  its  aims,  its  great  principles,  and  its  arm)  of  noble  men. 
But  I  took  the  liberty  of  criticising  its  policy  in  a  single  respei  t, 

and  to  do  what  1  could  to  secure  what  1  believed,  and  still  be- 
lieve, to  be  a  better  one. 

"I  am,  and  from  the  first  have  been,  fully  of  opinion  that 
the  amendment  o\  the  Constitution  proposed  b\  [ual- 

izing  representation  in  Northern  and  Southern  States,  was  in- 
trinsically just  and  reasonable,  and  that  it  should  be  sought  by  a 
wholesome  and  persistent  moral  agitation. 

"  But,  from  the  present  condition  of  the  public  mind  and 
from  the  President's  attitude,  I  deemed  such  a  change  to  be 
practically  impossible,  in  any  near  period,  by  political  action. 
And  a  plan  of  reconstruction  based  upon  that  seems  to  me  far 
more  like  a  plan  of  adjourning  reconstruction  for  years,  at  least, 
with  all  the  liabilities  of  mischief  which  nre  always  to  be  expect- 
ed in  the  fluctuations  of  politics  in  a  free  nation. 

"  It  is  not  the  North  that  chiefly  needs  the  restoration  of  gov- 
ernment to  its  normal  sphere  and  regular  action.  Either  the 
advantages  of  Union  are  fallacious,  or  the  continuous  exclusion 
of  the  South  from  it  will  breed  disorder,  make  the  future  re- 
union more  difficult,  and  especially  subject  the  freedmen  to  the 
very  worst  conditions  of  society  that  can  well  exist.  No  army, 
no  government,  and  no  earthly  power  can  compel  the  South  to 
treat  four  million  men  justly,  if  the  inhabitants  (whether  rightly 
or  wrongly)  regard  these  men  as  the  cause,  or  even  the  occasion, 
of  their  unhappiness  and  disfranchisement.  But  no  army,  or 
government,  or  power  will  be  required  when  Southern  society  is 
restored,  occupied,  and  prospering  in  the  renewed  Union.  Then 
the  negro  will  be  felt  to  be  a  necessity  to  Southern  industry,  and 
interest  will  join  with  conscience  and  kindness  in  securing  for 
him  favorable  treatment  from  his  fellow-citizens.  .  .  . 

"  Neither  am  I  a  '  Johnson  man  '  in  any  received  meaning  of 
that  term.  I  accept  that  part  of  the  policy  which  he  favors,  but 
with  modification.  I  have  never  thought  that  it  would  be  wise 
to  bring  back  all  the  States  in  a  body,  and  at  once,  any  more  than 
it  would  be  to  keep  them  all  out  together.  One  by  one,  in  due 
succession,  under  a  special  judgment  rather  than  by  a  wholesale 
theoretic  rule,  I  would  have  them  readmitted.  I  still  think  a 
middle  course  between  the   President's    and  that    of  Congress 


474  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

would  be  wiser  than  either.  But  with  this  my  agreement  with 
the  President  ends. 

u  And  now  allow  me  to  express  some  surprise  at  the  turn 
which  the  public  mind  has  taken  on  my  letter.  If  I  had  never 
before  spoken  my  sentiments,  I  could  see  how  friends  might  now 
misapprehend  my  position.  But  for  a  year  past  I  have  been  ad- 
vocating the  very  principles  of  the  Cleveland  letter  in  all  the 
chief  Eastern  cities — in  Boston,  Portland,  Springfield,  Albany, 
Utica,  Rochester,  Buffalo,  Philadelphia,  Harrisburg,  Pittsburgh, 
and  Brooklyn  (at  the  Academy  of  Music  last  winter).  These 
views  were  reported,  discussed,  agreed  to  or  differed  from, 
praised  and  blamed  abundantly.  But  no  one  thought,  or  at  least 
said,  that  I  remember,  that  I  had  forsaken  the  Republican  party 
or  had  turned  my  back  upon  the  freedman.  My  recent  letter 
but  condenses  those  views  which  for  twelve  months  I  have  been 
earnestly  engaged  in  urging  upon  the  attention  of  the  community. 
I  am  not  surprised  that  men  dissent.  But  this  sudden  conster- 
nation and  this  late  discovery  of  the  nature  of  my  opinions 
seem  sufficiently  surprising.  I  could  not  ask  a  better  service 
than  the  reprinting  of  that  sermon  of  last  October,  which  first 
brought  upon  me  the  criticisms  of  the  Tribiuie  and  Independent. 

"  I  foresaw  that,  in  the  probable  condition  of  parties  and  the 
country,  we  could  not  carry  suffrage  for  the  freedman  by  imme- 
diate political  action.  When  the  ablest  and  most  radical  Con- 
gress of  our  history  came  together  they  refused  to  give  suffrage 
to  negroes,  even  in  the  District  of  Columbia  ;  and  only  in  an  in- 
direct way,  not  as  a  political  right  but  as  the  hoped-for  result  of 
political  selfishness,  did  they  provide  for  it  by  an  amendment  of 
the  Constitution.  What  was  prophecy  with  me,  Congress  has 
made  history.  Relinquishing  political  instruments  for  gaining 
the  full  enfranchisement  of  men,  I  instantly  turned  to  moral 
means  ;  and  enunciating  the  broadest  doctrine  of  manhood  suf- 
frage, I  gave  the  widest  latitude  to  that,  advocating  the  rights  of 
black  and  white,  of  men  and  women,  to  the  vote.  If  any  man 
has  labored  more  openly,  on  a  broader  principle,  and  with  more 
assiduity,  I  do  not  know  him.  More  ability  may  have  been 
shown,  but  not  more  directness  of  purpose  or  undeviating  con- 
sistency. .  .  . 

"  Deeming  the  speedy  admission  of  the  Southern  States  as 
necessary  to  their  own  health,  as  indirectly  the  best  policy  for 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER*  475 

the  freedmen,  as  peculiarly  needful  to  the  safety  of  our  govern- 
ment, which,  for  the  sake  of  accomplishing  a  good  end,  incau- 
tious nun  are  in  danger  ol  perverting,  I  favored,  and  do  still 
favor,  the  election  to  Congress  of  Republicans  who  will  seek,  the 
rarlv  admission  of  the  reensant  States.  Having  urged  it  for  a 
year  past,  1  was  more  than  ready  to  urge  it  again  upon  the  rep- 
resentatives to  Congress  this  fall.  In  this  spirit  and  for  this  end 
1  drew  up  my  Cleveland  letter.  I  deem  its  views  sound  ;  I  am  not 
sorry  that  1  wrote  it.  1  regret  the  misapprehension  which  it  has 
caused,  and  yet  more  any  sorrow  which  it  may  have  needlessly 
imposed  upon  dear  friends.  As  I  look  back  upon  my  course,  I 
see  no  deviation  from  the  straight  line  which  I  have  made,  with- 
out wavering,  for  now  thirty  years  in  public  life,  in  favor  of  jus- 
tice, liberty,  and  the  elevation  of  the  poor  and  ignorant. 

"The  attempt  to  class  me  with  men  whose  course  I  have 
opposed  all  my  life  long  will  utterly  fail.  I  shall  choose  my  own 
place,  and  shall  not  be  moved  from  it.  I  have  been  from  my 
youth  a  firm,  unwavering,  avowed,  and  active  friend  of  all  that 
were  oppressed.  I  have  done  nothing  to  forfeit  that  good  name 
which  I  have  earned.  I  am  not  going  weakly  to  turn  away  from 
my  settled  convictions  of  the  public  weal  for  fear  that  bad  men 
may  praise  me  or  good  men  blame.  There  is  a  serious  difference 
of  judgment  between  men  as  to  the  best  policy.  We  must  all  re- 
mit to  the  future  the  decision  of  the  question.  Facts  will  soon 
judge  us. 

"  I  feel  now  profoundly  how  imperfect  my  services  have  been 
to  my  country,  compared  with  its  desert  of  noble  services.  But 
I  am  conscious  that  I  have  given  all  that  I  had  to  give,  without 
fear  or  favor.  Above  all  earthly  things  is  my  country  dear  to 
me.  The  lips  that  taught  me  to  say  '  Our  Father '  taught  me  to 
say  '  Fatherland.'  I  have  aimed  to  conceive  of  that  land  in  the 
light  of  Christianity.  God  is  my  witness  that  with  singleness  of 
heart  I  have  given  all  my  time,  strength,  and  service  to  that 
which  shall  make  our  whole  nation  truly  prosperous  and  glorious. 
Not  by  the  lustre  of  arms,  even  in  a  just  cause,  would  I  seek  her 
glory,  but  by  a  civilization  that  should  carry  its  blessings  down 
to  the  lowest  classes,  and  nourish  the  very  roots  of  society  by 
her  moral  power  and  purity,  by  her  public  conscience,  her  politi- 
cal justice,  and  by  her  intelligent  homes,  filling  up  a  continent 
and  rearing  a  virtuous  and  noble  citizenship. 


4/6  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  By  night  and  by  day  this  is  the  vision  and  dream  of  my  life, 
and  inspires  me  as  no  personal  ambition  ever  could.  I  am  not 
discouraged  at  the  failure  to  do  the  good  I  meant,  at  the  misap- 
prehension of  my  course  by  my  church,  nor  the  severity  of  for- 
mer friends.  Just  now  those  angry  voices  come  to  me  as  rude 
winds  roar  through  the  trees.  The  winds  will  die,  the  trees  will 
live.  As  soon  as  my  health  is  again  restored  I  shall  go  right  on 
in  the  very  course  I  have  hitherto  pursued.  Who  will  follow  or 
accompany  it  is  for  others  to  decide.  I  shall  labor  for  the  edu- 
cation of  the  whole  people  ;  for  the  enfranchisement  of  men 
without  regard  to  class,  caste,  or  color  ;  for  full  development, 
among  all  nations,  of  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ  makes  men 
free.  In  doing  this  I  will  cheerfully  work  with  others,  with  par- 
ties— any  and  all  men  that  seek  the  same  glorious  ends.  But  I 
will  not  become  a  partisan.  I  will  reserve  my  right  to  differ  and 
dissent,  and  respect  the  same  right  in  others.  Seeking  others' 
full  manhood  and  true  personal  liberty,  I  do  not  mean  to  forfeit 
my  own. 

"  Better  days  are  coming.  These  throes  of  our  day  are 
labor-pains.  God  will  bring  forth  ere  long  great  blessings.  In 
some  moments  which  it  pleases  God  to  give  me  I  think  I  dis- 
cern beyond  the  present  troubles,  and  over  the  other  side  of  the 
abyss  in  which  the  nation  wallows,  that  fair  form  of  Liberty 
— God's  dear  child — whose  whole  beauty  was  never  yet  dis- 
closed. I  know  her  solemn  face.  That  she  is  divine  I  know  by 
her  purity,  by  her  sceptre  of  justice,  and  by  that  atmosphere  of 
Love  that,  issuing  from  her,  as  light  from  a  star,  moves  with  her- 
as  a  royal  atmosphere.  In  this,  too,  I  know  her  divinity,  that 
she  shall  bless  both  friends  and  enemies,  and  yield  the  fullest 
fruition  of  liberty  to  those  who  would  have  slain  her,  as  once 
her  Master  gave  His  life  for  the  salvation  of  those  who  slew  Him. 

"  I  am,  your  true  friend  and  pastor, 

"  Henry  Ward  Beecher." 

At  the  conclusion  of  his  Thanksgiving  sermon  from  which  we 
have  already  quoted,  after  reviewing  these  letters,  he  summed  up 
the  subject  : 

"  My  dear  friends,  if  I  had  written  that  for  to-day  I  could 
not  have  written  it  better,  and  I  do  not  think  it  needs  to  be  writ- 
ten any  better.     I  stand  on  that,  and  I  have  read  it  this  morning 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  477 

not  only  because  inspired  by  the  parallelism,  but  because  it  1ms 
been  represented  that  my  Cleveland  letter  was  the  greatest  blun- 
der of   the   day  ;   and   then,  worse   than    that,  that   I  backed  down 

from  it  and  retracted  it.  And  I  have  read,  therefore,  both  of 
them,  in  parts,  so  far  as  bears  more  immediately  on  questions  of 
to-day,  that  you  may  know  that  God  gave  me  the  light  to  do  one 
of  the  best  things  I  ever  did  when  I  wrote  that  letter  ;  and  that 
He  gave  me  the  grace  to  stand  on  it  without  turning  back  for  one 
single  moment  ;  and  that  He  has  given  me  grace  to  lay  my  path, 
by  sight,  along  those  two  letters — hindsight  and  foresight — from 
that  day  down  to  this  ;  and  that  He  has  given  me  grace  to  with- 
stand the  impleadings  of  those  that  I  love  dearly,  not  only  of  my 
immediate  household  but  of  my  blood  and  kindred  ;  of  those 
that  are  in  the  church,  that  are  to  me  as  my  own  life,  and  those 
that  are  of  the  political  party  with  which  I  have  labored  thus 
far. 

'•'Still  seeing  that  luminous  light,  as  God  reveals  it  to  me,  I 
have  walked  in  it  and  toward  it,  and  abide  in  that  same  direc- 
tion to-day  ;  and,  God  helping  me,  so  will  I  live  to  the  end." 

To  most  of  his  friends  the  second  letter  gave  great  relief. 
The  excitement  in  the  church  was  quickly  allayed,  and,  as  it 
abated,  the  calm  second-sight  of  his  people  began  to  see  more 
and  more  in  the  letters  in  which  they  could  agree. 

After  the  second  letter  Dr.  Storrs  wrote  again  : 

"Brooklyn,  Sept.  10,  1866. 
44  Dear  Beecher  : 

"Your  letter  is  admirable  in  all  respects,  and  must  make  pre- 
cisely the  right  impression  of  your  position  and  views  on  every 
one  who  reads  it.  Now  let  the  winds  'crack  their  cheeks.'  All 
my  solicitude  is  over,  and  Andy  J.  and  Seward  fully  deserve 
what  things  they  are  going  to  get. 

"  Most  affectionately, 

"R.  S.  Storrs,  Jr." 

In  letters  to  prominent  public  men  and  journalists  Mr. 
Beecher  urged  that  the  conservative  Republicans  should  express 
themselves  plainly  and  clearly  for  the  speedy  reunion  of  the  loyal 
Southern  States  and  restoration  of  a  mo*e  kindly  feeling,  but 
that   this    should   be  done,  not  in  opposition  to  the  Republican 


4j8  REV.  HEXRY  WARD  BEE  CHER. 

party,  but  within  it.  He  was  emphatic  that  the  work  of  recon- 
struction could  not  then  be  safely  left  to  the  Democratic  party. 
As  soon  as  the  public  began  to  understand,  what  one  would  think 
had  been  plainly  apparent  at  the  start,  that  it  was  not,  and  had  not 
been,  his  intention  to  leave  the  Republican  party,  but  to  urge  the 
party  to  take  up  speedy  reconstruction  as  its  line  of  policy,  and 
that  he  was  laboring  to  create  a  sentiment  within  the  party  in  its 
favor,  the  general  excitement  began  to  abate,  and  soon  the  bit- 
terness, except  with  a  few  extremists,  passed  away. 

A  few  sparks  which  took  their  heat  from  this  fierce  excite- 
ment remained,  however,  smouldering  unnoticed  and  unsuspected, 
to  aid,  a  few  years  later,  in  creating  the  most  terrible  and  fiery 
ordeal  that  ever  a  good  man  was  called  to  undergo,  since  the 
time  of  Him  who  came  on  earth  to  give  Himself  a  voluntary  sac- 
rifice, that  through  His  death  the  world  might  live  ;  whose  ten- 
der kindness,  patient  forgiveness,  and  generous  self-sacrifice 
were  made  the  guide  and  rule  of  life,  so  far  as  human  nature 
could,  by  him  whose  life  we  seek  to  portray. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

The  "  Silver  Wedding  "  of  Plymouth  Church — Children's  Day — Services  in 
the  Church  —  Reunion  of  old  Members — Historical  Reminiscences  — 
Dr.  Storrs's  Tribute. 

AS  in  nature  violent  storms  are  often  succeeded  by  peaceful 
calms,  and  as  the  sun  shines  brightest  and  the  air  seems  clear- 
est and  most  purified  after  the  thunder-storm  has  broken 
and  passed  away,  so  in  Mr.  Beecher's  life  we  find  that  the  stormy 
trials  that  beset  him,  at  different  periods,  were  followed  by  calms, 
in  which  the  sun  of  popular  favor  shone  the  brightest ;  by  periods 
of  peace,  during  which  he  seemed  endowed  with  increased  power 
for  useful  work. 

It  was  his  lot  to  be  generally  a  few  years  ahead  of  the  times, 
but  it  was  his  good  fortune  to  live  to  see  his  views  accepted,  and 
to  find  his  hottest  critics  standing  on  the  very  ground,  that  they 
had  so  fiercely  assailed  him  for  occupying,  but  just  a  short  time 
before. 

So,  for  some  years  after  1866,  we  find  him  working  with  in- 
creased power  and  usefulness  in  his  church,  from  the  lecture 
platform,  and  through  the  columns  of  the  press.  His  church 
had  never  been  nfore  prosperous,  his  people  never  more  active  in 
all  departments  of  good  work  ;  never  had  he  had  so  wide  a  field 
in  which  to  labor.  His  sermons,  which  at  first  had  only  been 
printed  in  certain  papers,  were  now  issued  in  book-form,  and 
were  read  wherever  the  English  tongue  prevailed. 

From  his  pulpit  went  forth  words  of  cheer,  of  hope  and  love, 
that  lifted  up  weary  hearts,  that  infused  new  life  in  desponding 
souls,  that  shed  a  new  light  in  upon  spirits  that  had  lived  in 
the  darkness  of  sin,  throughout  the  civilized  globe.  His  sermons 
were  translated  into  German,  French,  Spanish,  and  Italian.  No 
four  walls,  no  State  boundaries,  nor  the  limits  of  any  one  nation, 
held  his  congregation. 

In  this  period  he  undertook,  in  addition  to  his  ordinary  duties 
and  labors,  the  principal  literary  work  of  his  life,  writing  "  Nor- 


480  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

wood,"  completing  the  first  volume  of  "  The  Life  of  Christ," 
organizing  and  carrying  on  the  Christian  Union  as  its  editor-in- 
chief. 

Though  the  shadows  of  the  coming  trouble  began,  during  the 
later  part  of  this  period,  to  fall  across  his  path,  at  times  darken- 
ing and  oppressing  his  inner  life,  yet  to  the  world,  to  the  church, 
and  to  his  friends  it  seemed  as  if  a  lasting  season  of  peace  and 
prosperity  had  settled  down  upon  Plymouth  Church,  and  its 
pastor,  promising  many  years  of  uninterrupted  and  blessed  use- 
fulness. 

October  10,  1872,  completed  the  full  quarter-century  of  Mr. 
Beecher's  pastorate  at  Plymouth  Church.  His  people  determined 
to  celebrate  in  fitting  manner  this  "  Silver  Wedding,"  as  it  was 
called.  It  was  decided  to  devote  the  week  in  which  the  anniver- 
sary occurred  to  the  celebration  of  this  jubilee. 

In  the  minds  of  his  people  there  might  well  have  been  some 
little  feeling  of  pride  and  triumphant  jubilation.  They  had  seen 
Plymouth,  from  the  little  handful,  twenty-orte  in  all,  whose  or- 
ganization had  awakened  prophecies  of  a  speedy  death,  grow 
to  the  great  church  of  over  twenty-seven  hundred,  with  its 
three  large  Sunday-schools — Plymouth,  Bethel,  and  Mayflower — 
the  nurseries  of  the  church,  where  nearly  three  thousand  scholars 
gathered  every  Sunday  to  learn  the  way  of  life.  They  had  seen 
its  influence  extended  throughout  the  entire  nation,  throughout 
the  civilized  globe,  a  power  for  good.  They  had  seen  churches 
by  the  score  spring  from  its  loins,  and  not  a  few  had  they  seen, 
in  periods  of  weakness  when  liable  to  fail,  kepi  alive,  nourished, 
and  sustained  by  its  strong  hand  until  strong  enough  to  stand 
alone. 

Its  history  formed  a  part  of  the  nation's  history  in  the  dark 
days  of  slavery,  in  the  struggle  for  national  existence,  and  the  ex- 
citing period  of  reconstruction,  as  has  been  well  said  :  "  For  the 
better  part  of  a  generation  Plymouth  Church,  under  the  influence 
of  Mr.  Beecher,  has  been  a  conspicuous  light  among  the  churches 
of  the  land.  It  has  been  the  birthplace  of  countless  good  works 
which  have  blessed  the  whole  community.  It  has  been  the  nursery 
of  noble  impulses,  of  free  thought,  of  patriotism,  of  generous  and 
inspiriting  actions.  Its  pupils  have  gone  out  into  all  parts  of  the 
country,  carrying  its  fresh  spirit  with  them,  to  infect  other  com- 
munities.    Its  influence  is  felt  from  Maine  to  the  Pacific,  and  its 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER.  4S1 

memory  is  to-day  affectionately  cherished  by  thousands  who  were 

never  within  its  walls  and  never  saw  its  preacher." 

Hut  m  Mr.  Beecher's  heart,  while  not  forgetful  of  the  glorious 
record  of  his  church,  the  predominating  feeling  was  one  of  pro- 
found gratitude  to  God. 

In  his  Friday  night  prayer-meeting  preceding  the  jubilee  he- 
expressed  his  feelings  to  his  people: 

"  If  I  thought  next  week  was  to  be  a  kind  of  historical  glori- 
fication of  this  church  ;  still  worse,  if  I  thought  it  was  to  be  a 
sort  of  personal  glorification,  I  should  shrink  from  it  with  more 
than  dislike — with  positive  loathing.  It  has  pleased  God  to  rec- 
ognize the  instrumentality  of  this  church  in  the  work  it  has  done 
for  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  ;  but,  after  all,  the  reason  of  its 
success,  the  absolute  cause  of  its  moral  power,  has  been  the  pre- 
sence of  God,  and  the  preaching  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Ghrist,  here 
during  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  ;  and  if  we  have  a  celebra- 
tion, it  ought  to  be  a  celebration  of  what  the  Lord  has  done 
among  us.  The  feeling  ought  to  be  that  of  gratitude,  and  of  the 
most  profound  recognition  of  the  goodness  and  mercy  and  lov- 
ing-kindness of  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  who  has  walked  in  our 
households  and  in  the  midst  of  this  artificial  Christian  family, 
and  has  not  ceased  to  do  us  good,  for  the  past  twenty  five  years. 

"So,  that  all  the  services  of  the  week  may  be  infused  with  a 
more  reverent  and  loving  sense  of  the  Lord's  mercy  to  us,  I  hope 
you  will  give  yourselves  to  prayer  in  your  closets  and  in  your 
homes.  May  it  be  a  week,  not  for  the  laudation  of  men  or  of 
churches,  but  for  a  grateful  recognition  of  God's  way  with  us, 
and  of  that  dear  name  which  should  be  dearer  to  us  every  day 
that  we  live,  until  we  shall  see  Him  in  His  glory  for  ever." 

Monday,  October  7th,  was  the  first  day  of  the  jubilee.  This 
was  "  Children's  day,"  the  exercises  being  devoted  principally  to 
the  Sunday-schools. 

In  the  afternoon  the  three  schools  united  in  one  column  and 
marched  past  Mr.  Beecher's  house  ;  as  they  filed  by,  the  schools 
gave  their  pastor,  as  he  stood  upon  his  doorstep,  a  marching 
salute.  Each  child  as  it  passed  cast  a  flower  at  his  feet,  until  he 
stood  literally  embanked  in  flowers.  The  day  was  wondrously 
beautiful,  sunny,  clear,  and  crisp — as  though  glorious  October, 
nature's  painter,  catching  the  prevailing  enthusiasm,  was  con- 
sciously contributing  its   share  to  make  the  occasion  a   success. 


482  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Mr.  Beecher  was  deeply  touched.  "We  gave  Monday  to  the 
children — and  a  beautiful  day  it  was — and  a  sight  brighter  than 
which  I  shall  not  see  until  I  look  in  the  New  Jerusalem,  and  see 
all  the  children  who  have  left  us  for  that  better  land." 

Tuesday,  as  "  Teachers'  day,"  was  devoted  to  a  reunion  of 
the  teachers  and  officers  then  serving  or  who  had  done  duty  in 
either  of  the  three  Sunday-schools. 

Wednesday,  as  "  Members'  day,"  was  like  a  great  family  re- 
union :  it  was  the  home  day. 

The  church  auditorium,  the  lecture-room  and  Sunday-school 
rooms,  decorated  with  flowers,  were  thrown  open  to  the  mem- 
bers. We  quote  a  description  of  the  decorations  :  "  What  with 
the  warbling  of  sweet-voiced  birds,  the  profusion  of  leafy  and 
floral  decorations  artistically  arranged,  the  many  beautiful  paint- 
ings, the  liquid,  melodious  strains  from  a  band  of  musicians  with 
stringed  instruments  stationed  in  the  gallery,  the  picturesque 
though  sober  dresses  of  the  lady-promenaders,  but,  above  all,  the 
vocal  sound  of  animated,  sparkling  conversation,  a  kaleidoscopic 
picture  was  presented  which  awakened  and  gratified  all  the 
senses,  and  which,  however,  could  only  be  appreciated  by  an 
eye-witness." 

The  exercises  were  eminently  social,  a  part  of  the  evening 
being  devoted  to  humorous  reminiscences,  by  the  older  members, 
of  the  "early  days."  Music  and  a  lunch  helped  to  increase  the 
general  enjoyment. 

Thursday,  "  Historical  day,"  was,  more  perhaps  than  any 
other,  a  public  day.  As  the  name  indicates,  it  was  devoted  to  a 
review  of  the  church,  its  growth  in  size,  in  works,  and  its  ever- 
extending  influence  for  good.  From  Mr.  Beecher's  speech  we 
give  only  the  opening  and  closing  paragraphs,  which  briefly 
review  the  beginning  of  his  pastorate  in  Plymouth  Church,  his 
purpose  in  his  work,  and  its  continuance  to  that  time  : 

"  At  my  first  coming  I  had  no  plans  ;  I  had  marked  out  no 
future  ;  I  had  no  theories  to  establish,  no  system  to  found,  no 
doctrines  to  demolish,  no  oppugnation  of  any  kind.  I  remember 
distinctly  that  over  and  over  again  I  held  account  with  myself  ; 
and  I  came  into  this  field  simply  and  only  to  work  for  the  awak- 
ening of  men,  for  their  conversion  to  Christ,  and  for  their  up- 
building in  a  Christian  life.  I  had  almost  a  species  of  indiffer- 
ence as  to  means  and  measures.     I  cared  little,  and  perhaps  too 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

little,  whether  I  had  OF  had  not  a  church-building.  1  thought  of 
one  thing — the  love  of  Christ  to  men.    This,  to  me,  was  a  burning 

reality.  Less  clearly  than  now,  perhaps,  did  1  discern  the  whole 
circuit  and  orb  of  the  nature  of  Christ  ;  but  with  a  burning  in- 
tensity I  realized  the  love  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ.  1  believed  it 
to  be  the  one  transcendent  influence  in  this  world  by  which  men 
should  be  roused  to  a  higher  manhood,  and  should  be  translated 
into  another  and  better  kingdom.  My  purpose  was  to  preach 
Christ  to  men  for  the  sake  of  bringing  them  to  a  higher  life. 
And  though  I  preferred  the  polity  and  economy  of  the  Congre- 
gational Church,  yet  I  also  felt  that  God  was  in  all  the  other 
churches,  and  that  it  was  no  part  of  my  ministry  to  build  up  sec- 
tarian walls  ;  that  it  was  no  part  of  my  ministry  to  bombard  and 
pull  down  sectarian  structures  ;  but  that  the  work  of  my  ministry- 
was  to  find  the  way  to  the  hearts  of  men,  and  to  labor  with  them 
for  their  awakening,  and  conversion,  and  sanctification. 

"  I  have  said  that  I  had  no  theory  ;  but  I  had  a  very  strong 
impression  on  my  mind  that  the  first  five  years  in  the  life  of  a 
church  would  determine  the  history  of  that  church  and  give  to 
it  its  position  and  genius  ;  that  if  the  earliest  years  of  a  church 
were  controversial  or  barren  it  would  take  scores  of  years  to 
right  it,  but  that  if  a  church  were  consecrated,  and  active,  and 
energetic  during  the  first  five  years  of  its  life,  it  would  probably 
go  on  through  generations  developing  the  same  features.  My 
supreme  anxiety,  therefore,  in  gathering  a  church,  was  to  have 
all  of  its  members  united  in  a  fervent,  loving  disposition  ;  to 
have  them  all  in  sympathy  with  men  ;  and  to  have  all  of  them 
desirous  of  bringing  to  bear  the  glorious  truths  of  the  Gospel 
upon  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  those  about  them.   .  .  ." 

"  I  bless  God  when  I  look  back.  I  have  lived  my  life,  and 
no  man  can  take  it  from  me.  The  mistakes  that  I  have  made — 
and  they  are  many — none  know  so  well  as  I.  My  incapacity 
and  insufficiency  none  can  feel  so  profoundly  as  I.  ...  And 
yet  I  have  this  witness  :  that  for  twenty-five  years  I  have 
not  withheld  my  strength,  and  have  labored  in  simplicity  and 
with  sincerity  of  motive  for  the  honor  of  my  God,  and  for  the 
love  that  I  bear  to  you,  and  for  the  ineradicable  love  that  I  have 
for  my  country  and  for  the  world. 

"  My  time  is  drawing  near  ;  but  if  I  should  fall  to-morrow, 
I  have  lived.     I  have  seen  this  land  rise  up  from  its  drunkenness 


484  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

and  its  shame.  I  have  seen  the  original  principles  of  liberty, 
which  had  well-nigh  been  buried,  come  like  Lazarus  forth  from 
the  grave.  What  if,  for  the  first  few  steps  of  the  new  life — bound 
hand  and  foot  in  grave-clothes,  and  with  a  napkin  about  his 
head,  staggering  somewhat — it  knew  not  how  to  find  the  rightful 
path  ?  Our  country  is  free  ;  and  it  has  pleased  God  to  give  you 
and  me  some  part  in  the  work  of  enfranchisement  and  the  settle- 
ment of  this  land  on  the  old  foundation  of  truth  and  justice  and 
universal  liberty. 

"  I  have  lived  through  a  quarter  of  a  century,  and  had  a  free 
platform  ;  and  you  have  sustained  me  in  speaking  just  what  I 
thought  to  be  true.  You  have  never  servilely  believed  anything 
because  I  said  it  ;  for  you  have  maintained  opinions  different 
from  mine  from  the  beginning  to  the  end.  .  .  . 

"  I  am  admonished  that  the  best  of  my  years  are  past 
and  that  my  sun  will  soon  go  down.  Let  it  go  down  to-day, 
to-morrow,  whenever  it  may  please  God.  I  will  not  ask  for  the 
lengthening  out  of  one  single  day.  I  have  lived  a  happy  life.  I 
have  been  a  happy  pastor.  I  have  loved  you  and  been  beloved 
by  you.  I  have  seen  your  children  come  up  and  walk  in  the 
ways  of  life.  I  have  gone  down  with  hundreds  to  see  the  frame- 
work laid  in  the  dust,  believing  that  the  spirit  was  above.  We 
have  come  down  together,  without  a  quarrel,  without  a  break, 
and  wuthout  a  shaking  of  confidence,  to  this  blessed  hour.  And 
now,  in  these  closing  words  which  I  address  to  you  and  to  all 
who  are  present,  join  with  me,  not  in  self-gratulation,  nor  in  the 
interchange  of  compliments,  but  in  thanksgiving  to  Christ  that 
has  loved  us,  to  the  Spirit  of  God  that  has  inspired  us,  and  to 
the  dear  Father  that  has  kept  us  together  in  the  one  household 
of  faith,  beloved  and  loving,  thus  far." 

Twenty-five  years  before  Dr.  Storrs  gave  the  right  hand  of 
fellowship  to  Mr.  Beecher  at  his  installation,  then  to  encourage 
him  to  future  labor.  Again  he  gives  him  the  hand  of  fellowship, 
but  now,  in  words  tender  and  eloquent,  to  dwell  on  the  work 
done,  to  congratulate  him  on  the  rich  and  abundant  harvest  he 
had  garnered,  and  to  testify  his  brotherly  love  and  admiration. 
The  scene  was  a  solemnly  touching  one,  as  Dr.  Storrs,  in  the 
words  we  quote,  closed  his  glowing  tribute  to  the  man  who,  for 
twenty-five  years,  had  stood  by  his  side  laboring  for  a  common 
cause,  and  who  had  loved  him  as  a  brother  : 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER.  485 

"  At  any  rate,  we  have  stood  side  by  Side  in  all  these  years  ; 
and  they  have  been  wonderful  and  eventful  years. 

"  •  Our  eyea  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord, 

When  He  loosed  the  fateful  lightnings  ol  His  terrible  swift  sword, 
And  His  truth  went  marching  on  !  ' 

"  We  have  differed  many  times,  but  two  men  so  unlike  never 
stood  side  by  side  with  each  other,  for  so  long  a  time,  in  more 
perfect  harmony,  without  a  jealousy  or  a  jar  !  Though  we  have 
differed  in  opinion,  we  have  never  differed  in  feeling.  We  have 
walked  to  the  graves  of  friends  in  company.  We  have  sat  at  the 
table  of  the  Lord  in  company.  He  knows,  as  he  has  said,  that 
when  other  voices  were  loud  and  fierce  in  hostility  to  him  mine 
never  joined  them.  When  other  pens  wrote  his  name,  dropping 
gall  and  venom  as  they  wrote  it,  my  pen  never  touched  the  paper 
except  in  honor  and  admiration  of  him.  And  /  know  that  when- 
ever I  have  wanted  counsel  or  courage  given  me  from  others,  he 
has  always  been  ready,  from  the  overflowing  surplus  of  his  sur- 
charged mind,  to  give  them  to  me. 

"  So  we  have  stood  side  by  side — blessed  be  God  ! — in  no  spirit 
but  of  fraternal  love,  for  that  long  space  of  twenty-five  years 
which  began  with  the  Right  Hand  of  Fellowship  then,  and  closes 
before  you  here  to-night. 

"  I  am  not  here,  my  friends,  to  repeat  the  service  which  then 
I  performed.  It  would  be  superfluous.  When  I  think  of  the 
great  assemblies  that  have  surged  and  thronged  around  this  plat- 
form, when  I  think  of  the  influences  that  have  gone  out  from 
this  pulpit  into  all  the  earth,  I  feel  that  less  than  almost  any 
other  man  on  earth  does  he  need  the  assurance  of  fellowship 
from  any  but  the  Son  of  God  !  But  I  am  here  to-night  for  an- 
other and  a  different  service  !  On  behalf  of  you  who  tarry,  and 
of  those  who  have  ascended  from  this  congregation  ;  on  behalf 
of  Christians  of  every  name  throughout  our  city,  who  have  had 
such  joy  and  pride  in  him,  and  the  name  of  whose  town  has,  by 
him,  been  made  famous  in  the  earth  ;  on  behalf  of  all  our 
churches,  now  growing  to  be  an  army  ;  on  behalf  of  those  in 
every  part  of  our  land  who  have  never  seen  his  face  or  heard  his 
voice,  but  who  have  read  and  loved  his  sermons,  and  been  quick- 
ened and  blessed  by  them  ;    on  behalf  of  the  great  multitudes 


486 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


who  have  gone  up  from  every  land  which  his  sermons  have 
reached — never  having  touched  his  hand  on  earth,  but  waiting 
to  greet  him  by  and  by — I  am  here  to-night  [taking  Mr.  Beecher 
by  the  hand]  to  give  him  the  Right  Hand  of  Congratulation,  on 
the  closing  of  this  twenty-fifth  year  of  his  ministry,  and  to  say  : 
God  be  praised  for  all  the  work  that  you  have  done  here  !  God 
be  praised  for  the  generous  gifts  which  He  has  showered  upon 
you,  and  the  generous  use  which  you  have  made  of  them,  here 
and  elsewhere,  and  everywhere  in  the  land  !  God  give  you 
many  happy  and  glorious  years  of  work  and  joy  still  to  come  in 
your  ministry  on  earth  !  May  your  soul,  as  the  years  go  on,  be 
whitened  more  and  more  in  the  radiance  of  God's  light,  and  in 
the  sunshine  of  His  love !  And,  when  the  end  comes — as  it  will 
— may  the  gates  of  pearl  swing  inward  for  your  entrance,  before 
the  hands  of  those  who  have  gone  up  before  you,  and  who  now 
wait  to  welcome  you  thither  ;  and  then  may  there  open  to  you 
that  vast  and  bright  Eternity — all  vivid  with  God's  love — in 
which  an  instant  vision  shall  be  perfect  joy,  and  an  immortal 
labor  shall  be  to  you  immortal  rest  ! " 

"This  magnificent  concluding  passage,"  said  the  Brooklyn 
Union  of  the  next  day,  "  was  uttered  with  an  eloquence  that 
defies  description.  At  its,  conclusion  Mr.  Beecher,  with  tears, 
and  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  arose,  and,  placing  his  hand  on 
Dr.  Storrs's  shoulder,  kissed  him  upon  the  cheek.  The  congrega- 
tion sat  for  a  moment  breathless  and  enraptured  with  this  simple 
and  beautiful  action.  Then  there  broke  from  them  such  a  burst 
of  applause  as  never  before  was  heard  in  an  ecclesiastical  edifice. 
There  was  not  a  dry  eye  in  the  house." 

Friday,  "  Communion  day,"  ended  the  jubilee.  After  a  brief 
season  of  prayer  and  remarks,  the  solemn  service  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  closed  the  meeting,'  over  two  thousand  persons  partici- 
pating in  the  communion. 

The  week  was  a  blessed  one  for  pastor  and  people,  making 
stronger  the  bonds  of  love,  confidence,  and  mutual  trust  that 
united  them  into  a  single  church,  and,  no  doubt,  helped  and 
strengthened  both  in  the  crossing  of  that  stormy  sea  of  trouble, 
at  the  very  shore  of  which  they  were  then  standing. 

Little  could  the  people  of  Plymouth  Church  foresee  as  they 
crowded  around  their  pastor,  striving,  in  loving  emulation,  to  out- 
do each  other  in  marks  of  affection  and  confidence,  that  the  most 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  487 

infamous  conspiracy   of    modern    times   w;is    rapidly   involving 
pastor  and  church  in  a  network  of  wicked  lies. 

None  would  have  believed  in  those  happy  days  that  the  very 
men  who  owed  most  to  their  pastor,  who  had  received  at  his 
hands  aid  and  comfort  when  most  needed,  whom  he  had  nurtured 
and  strengthened  by  his  love,  were  using  the  very  power  they 
had  derived  through  him,  to  destroy  their  benefactor;  with  the 
malignant  ingenuity  of  the  fallen  angel,  were  weaving  webs  of 
falsehood  and  misrepresentation  about  his  feet,  working  on  his 
feelings,  ever  sensitive  to  any  neglect  of  duty  upon  his  part,  by 
false  statements  of  injury  done  by  his  thoughtlessness  or  neglect; 
cunningly  interweaving  his  exaggerated  outbursts  of  self-accusing 
grief  with  their  falsehoods,  prepared  by  them,  with  cool  delibera- 
tion, to  fit  his  words.  They  sought  by  his  very  horror  of  evil  to 
give  the  appearance  of  evil.  Closing  his  mouth  by  a  pledge  they 
well  knew  his  honor  would  observe,  they,  disregarding  their 
pledges,  by  busy  whisperings  strove  to  fasten  suspicion  on  him, 
who,  they  knew,  would  not  speak  in  self-defence. 

The  warmth  of  that  heart  that  loved  all  mankind,  that  bore 
malice  to  none,  but  sought  by  greater  loving-kindness  to  over- 
come enmity,  returning  good  for  evil,  fell  upon  a  serpent's  nest, 
warming  into  life  the  malignant,  venomous  brood,  the  intensity 
of  whose  desire  to  injure  seemed  in  the  proportion  that  each  had 
been  benefited.  The  eggs  had  hatched,  and  the  serpents  were 
daily  growing  stronger  and  more  dangerous. 

But  least  of  all  did  Plymouth  Church  suspect  that  those 
whose  hands  they  had  just  grasped  in  fraternal  love,  who,  by 
their  own  teachings  and  their  calling,  should  have  been  slow  to 
believe  evil  of  their  brethren,  would  in  a  few  short  weeks  join 
hands  with  her  bitterest  enemies,  lending  to  them  the  moral  sup- 
port of  their  own  blameless  lives  and  high  reputations,  giving 
them  advice,  aid,  and  comfort,  opening  their  churches  as  an  asy- 
lum to  the  discontented  and  treacherous  in  Plymouth  Church  ; 
and,  even  while  the  words  of  brotherly  love  and  deep,  abiding 
confidence,  just  flown  from  their  lips,  were  ringing  with  joy  and 
comfort  in  the  heart  of  their  brother,  would  lend  the  ears  of 
ready  listeners,  to  the  base  tales  of  baser  men — men  whom  they 
themselves  knew  to  be  tainted  in  honor  and  morals — holding 
their  cloaks  to  screen  the  would-be  assassins. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  Conspiracy — Relations  with  Mr.  Bowen— Disputes  and  Arbitration — 
Theodore  Tilton's  Early  Promise  and  Intimacy  with  Mr.  Beecher — 
Bowen's  Ill-Will  and  Tilton's  Malice — Tilton  discharged  from  Inde- 
pendent and  Brooklyn  Union — Tripartite  Agreement — Moulton  and 
Tilton  conspire  to  Blackmail  Mr.  Beecher — Tilton  consults  Dr. 
Storrs. 

WHILE  it  will  not  be  possible  in  the  space  of  a  volume  such 
as  this,  nor  at  all  desirable  if  it  were  possible,  to  go  to 
any  considerable  extent  into  the  details  of  that  experience 
in  Mr.   Beecher's  life,  commonly  called  "  the  Scandal,"  yet  no 
biography  would   be   complete   or  truthful  which    ignored  this 
period. 

Therefore,  while  we  avoid  all  those  details  likely  to  offend 
against  a  rational  public  sentiment,  we  shall  try  to  give  such  an 
outline  of  the  general  facts  as  may  be  necessary  for  a  clear  un- 
derstanding of  this  monstrous  conspiracy. 

To  do  this  we  must  necessarily  go  back  to  the  beginnings, 
some  of  which  exerted  a  powerful  influence  on  subsequent 
events.  In  1856  Mr.  Beecher  was  invited  to  become  a  contribu- 
tor to  the  Independent,  then  published  and  controlled  by  Henry 
C.  Bowen  and  his  partner,  Mr.  McNamee.  This  was  accepted, 
and  in  November  of  that  year  a  contract  was  made  between 
them  to  that  effect. 

This  contract,  with  a  few  subsequent  modifications,  remained 
in  force  until  the  year  i860,  when  a  new  one  was  made  by  which 
Mr.  Beecher  became  the  editor-in-chief,  Theodore  Tilton,  his  as- 
sistant, relieving  him  wholly  of  the  office  routine  work.  Mr.  Til- 
ton was  at  this  time  a  young  man  with  the  promise  of  a  brilliant 
future  before  him.  Determining  upon  journalism  and  public 
speaking  as  his  profession,  he  sought  to  familiarize  himself  with 
the  speeches  and  writings  of  those  most  prominent  in  his  chosen 
field.     Early  in  the  "  Fifties  "  he  began  reporting  Mr.  Beecher's 

488 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

sermons  for  the  Observer.      This  led  to  an  acquaintance  bet* 
them. 

Tilton,  though  scarcely  more  than  a  boy,  was  even  then  very 

clever.  His  bright  speeches,  his  boyish  enthusiasm  in  following 
out  the  high  purposes  he  had  formed,  the  really  manly  aspira- 
tions he  then  felt,  and,  above  all,  his  sunny  disposition,  soon  won 
tor  him  a  very  warm  place  in  Mr.  Beecher's  heart,  which  1).; 
only  lost  years  later,  when  his  uncontrollable  egotism  and  vanity 
— the  mildew  of  precocity — worked  his  destruction,  wrecking  his 
reputation,  his  morals,  and  his  life. 

Mr.  Beecher  delighted  in  aiding  and  promoting  him,  seeking 
by  wise  counsels  to  strengthen  every  good  quality  and  to  hold 
in  check  every  malign  tendency,  advancing  him  as  rapidly  as 
possible  in  his  profession.  All  this  Mr.  Tilton  fully  recognized, 
writing  Mr.  Beecher,  a  short  time  before  he  began  his  plotting  : 

"  My  Friend  :  From  my  boyhood  up  you  have  been  to  me 
what  no  other  man  has  been,  what  no  other  man  can  be.  While 
I  was  a  student  the  influence  of  your  mind  on  mine  was  greater 
than  all  books  and  all  teachers.  The  intimacy  with  which  you 
honored  me  for  twelve  years  has  been,  next  to  my  wife  and  fam- 
ily, the  chief  affection  of  my  life.  By  you  I  was  baptized  ; 
by  you  married  ;  you  are  my  minister,  teacher,  father,  brother, 
friend,  companion.  The  debt  I  owe  you  I  can  never  pay.  My 
religious  life,  my  intellectual  development,  my  open  door  of  op- 
portunity for  labor,  my  public  reputation — all  these,  my  dear 
friend,  I  owe  in  so  great  a  degree  to  your  own  kindness  that 
my  gratitude  cannot  be  written  in  words,  but  must  be  expressed 
only  in  love." 

Early  in  their  intimacy  Tilton  left  the  Observer  and  joined 
his  fortunes  to  the  Independent. 

Through  the  affection  and  influence  of  his  friend  he  was 
advanced  steadily,  until,  in  the  fall  of  i860  or  early  1861,  he 
was  made  assistant  editor.  In  the  spring  of  1861  occurred  an 
incident  that  was  to  produce  ultimately  no  little  trouble. 

Mr.  Beecher  had  from  time  to  time  bought,  from  Mr.  Bowen's 
dry-goods  store,  various  articles  to  be  sent  to  the  Brooklyn 
Phalanx,  a  regiment  largely  enrolled  from  the  youths  and  friends 
of  Plymouth  Church,  and  in  which  Mr.  Beecher's  eldest  son  was 
an  officer.  These  purchases  were  charged  against  Mr.  Beecher's 
salary  account.     In  May,   1861,   Mr.    Bo  wen  claimed    that    Mr. 


490  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Beecher's  account  had  been  very  greatly  overdrawn,  by  goods 
purchased  and  money  drawn  out.  The  matter  was  finally  arbi- 
trated, the  arbitrator  awarding  Mr.  Bowen  $1,000,  which  was 
paid. 

Whether  it  was  the  failure  to  receive  all  that  he  expected,  or 
some  other  and  unknown  grievance,  we  cannot  say,  but  from 
about  this  time  began  a  feeling  of  hostility  on  the  part  of  Mr. 
Bowen,  which  a  few  years  later,  after  Mr.  Beecher  had  finally  left 
the  Independent,  took  shape  in  scandalous  whisperings  b.hind 
Mr.  Beecher's  back,  but  always  so  carefully  guarded  as  not,  at 
that  time,  to  reach  his  ears. 

In  1863  Mr.  Beecher  made  his  memorable  visit  to  England. 
During  his  absence  he  arranged  to  have  Mr.  Tilton  take  the 
entire  editorial  charge  of  the  Independent.  In  this  the  latter  did 
so  well,  that  in  February,  1864,  Mr.  Beecher,  being  then  in  need 
of  relief  from  the  care  and  responsibility  of  his  position,  made 
a  new  arrangement  with  Mr.  Bowen,  whereby  Mr.  Tilton  was  to 
be  retained  as  editor-in-chief,  Mr.  Beecher  contributing  editori- 
ally and  by  "  Star  articles"  (his  articles  were  unsigned,  but  marked 
with  *  at  the  foot,  hence  the  name)  ;  the  publication  of  his  ser- 
mons and  lecture-room  talks  being  continued,  his  name  remain- 
ing for  a  year  as  one  of  the  editors.  After  one  year  Tilton  was 
to  be  announced  as  the  actual  editor-in-chief. 

In  1865,  then,  Theodore  Tilton  found  himself  at  the  head  of 
one  of  the  most  influential  papers  in  the  land  ;  for  the  Indepen- 
dent, though  a  religious  paper,  had,  largely  through  the  controver- 
sies on  slavery,  war,  and  other  important  topics  carried  on  by 
Mr.  Beecher  in  its  columns,  acquired  a  reputation  and  influence, 
in  general  public  affairs,  that  was  equalled  by  no  other  journal 
of  its  kind. 

Soon  Mr.  Tilton's  inordinate  conceit  began  to  manifest  itself. 
He  was  to  supersede,  in  influence,  his  patron.  From  his  lofty 
pedestal  he  could  look  down  upon  his  old  friend  and  adviser, 
dwarfed  by  comparison. 

Already  he  had  begun  to  entertain  "  advanced  "  ideas,  repu- 
diating as  old-fogy  and  behind  the  times  the  principles  and 
beliefs  which  he  had  received  from  his  former  instructor. 
Not  content  with  his  fancied  overshadowing  of  Mr.  Beecher,  he 
began  about  this  time  to  take  part  in  Bowen's  campaign  of  scan- 
dalous  whisperings  ;   but   when   one  of   his  tales   came  to  Mr. 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


49 


Beecher's  car-,  he  promptly  denied  it  and  assured  Mr.  Beecher  that 

he  had  never  said  anything  of  the  kind,  that  it  was  wholly  false. 
This  denial  satisfied  Mr.  Beecher,  who  thought  no  more  of  the  tale. 
When  in  1866  Mr.  Beecher  wrote  his  "Cleveland  letters," 
the  Independent  assailed  him  so  virulently,  through  its  editorial 
columns,  that  he  felt  he  could  no  longer  be  connected  with  it, 
even  as  a  contributor,  and  thereupon  terminated  his  contract  and 
all  further  connection  with  the  paper.  This  was  a  further  aggra- 
vation in  Mr.  Bowen's  eyes,  as  it  was  likely  to  be  a  pecuniary 
loss  to  the  paper,  and  so  to  him.  Shortly  after  this  Mr.  Tilton 
began  in  the  editorial  columns  of  the  Independent  to  take  a  de- 
cidedly "  advanced  "  stand  upon  religious  and  ethical  subjects. 
His  views  began  to  savor  very  strongly  of  the  atheistic,  and  he 
more  than  intimated  a  belief  in  theories,  on  the  subject  of  mar- 
riage, that  seemed  hardly  appropriate  in  the  columns  of  a  religious 
newspaper;  so  that  when  he  published  his  "Editorial  Soliloquy  " 
in  1867,  there  broke  out  an  indignant  protest  both  from  the  East 
and  West  against  such  a  use  of  the  columns  of  the  Independent. 
Tilton's  course,  together  with  Bowen's  retention  of  certain  ob- 
jectionable advertisements,  threatened  serious  injury  to  the  paper. 
Steps  wrere  taken  to  start  a  new  religious  paper  in  Chicago,  to  su- 
persede the  Indepe7ident  in  the  West  ;  at  about  the  same  time 
overtures  were  made  to  Mr.  Beecher,  to  accept  the'  control  of  a 
new  paper  to  be  started  in  New  York.  This  alarmed  Mr.  Bowen, 
who  at  once  promised  to  muzzle  Tilton  and  prevent  the  publica- 
tion of  any  more  objectionable  "  views."  On  this  assurance  the 
opposition  to  the  Independent  was  suspended.  The  contract  wras 
a  larger  one,  however,  than  Bowen  had  anticipated.  Tilton  soon 
began  anew  ventilating  his  theories,  and  in  December,  1870,  wrote 
an  editorial  so  pronounced  in  its  advocacy  of  his  peculiar  views, 
that  the  public  patience  was  exhausted.  The  Advance  was  at 
once  established  in  Chicago  and  became  a  formidable  rival  to 
the  Itidependent,  Dr.  Edward  Beecher,  the  elder  brother  of  Henry 
Ward,  being  one  of  its  promoters. 

In  the  fall  of  1869  the  Christian  Union  was  organized  in 
Xew  York  City,  and  in  January,  1870,  Mr.  Beecher  took  control 
of  it.  Bowen  was  in  despair.  Here  were  two  dangerous  rivals 
to  his  paper.  He  was  afraid  to  discharge  Tilton  ;  he  had  said 
too  much  in  his  presence  to  care  to  offend  him.  He  must  in 
some  wray,  however,  get  Tilton  out  of  the  editorial  chair  of  the 


492  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Independent.  After  some  negotiation  he  arranged  with  Tilton 
that  he  should  resign  the  editorship  of  the  Independent,  and  a 
new  contract  was  made  by  which  he  should  take  the  editorship 
of  the  Brooklyn  Union  for  five  years,  at  five  thousand  dollars  a 
year,  and  should  be  the  chief  contributor  to  the  Independent, 
receiving  a  further  five  thousand  dollars  therefor.  This  change 
was  effected  on  the  20th  of  December,  1S70,  and  on  the  2 2d  his 
valedictory  was  published  in  the  Independent.  Up  to  the  year 
1S70  Tilton  could  hardly  be  said  to  have  been  hostile  to  Mr. 
Beecher,  certainly  in  no  such  sense  as  he  was  during  the  follow- 
ing year.  At  this  time  he  looked  upon  him  as  his  mental  and 
social  inferior,  and  not  infrequently  spoke  of  him  patronizingly, 
as  one  whom  he  had  outgrown,  bestowing  upon  him  a  sort  of 
affectionate  pity  because  he  had  been  cast  in  a  mould  so  much 
smaller  than  his  own.  It  is  true  that,  in  that  kind  of  "  strictest 
confidence  "  which  always  insures  a  quiet  circulation,  he  whis- 
pered stories,  from  time  to  time,  derogatory  to  Mr.  Beecher's  re- 
putation, but  these  were  born  of  his  vanity,  rather  than  of  malice. 
He  was  still  able  to  see  that  his  own  vagaries  did  not  meet  with 
public  favor.  He  felt  that  he  was  a  little  ahead  of  his  times, 
and  it  might  benefit  him  to  saddle  similar  theories  upon  Mr. 
Beecher.  He  probably  had  no  intention  of  doing  an  injury,  at 
least  at  that  time.  With  Mr.  Bo  wen,  however,  it  was  different. 
Mr.  Beecher's  resignation  first  from  the  editorship,  and  then  as 
contributor,  and  withdrawing  his  sermons  from  the  Independent, 
was  an  injury  in  his  eyes  for  which  Tilton's  appointment  did 
not  compensate,  and  seemed  to  intensify  that  ill-will  which  had 
its  origin  at  the  time  of  the  pecuniary  misunderstanding,  already 
referred  to.  And  now,  to  have  Mr.  Beecher's  brother  partici- 
pate in  starting  the  Advance  in  Chicago,  while  he  himself  accepted 
the  management  of  the  Christian  Union  in  New  York — a  paper 
that  sprang  at  once  into  a  very  large  circulation,  threatening 
to  crowd  the  Itidependent  in  the  East  as  the  Advance  prom- 
ised to  do  in  the  West — this  capped  the  climax.  Bowen's  dis- 
like was  the  more  intense  since  there  seemed  no  way  in  which 
he  could  assail  Mr.  Beecher  with  any  hope  of  success.  His 
whisperings  necessarily  had  to  be  guarded,  and  his  confidants  did 
not  seem  inclined,  or  able,  to  give  him  much  comfort. 

This  hostility  Mr.  Beecher  was   aware  of,  though  little  sus- 
pecting at  the  time  its  extent,  attributing  it   to  the  fact  that  he 


.  Y  WARl  'EX. 


49J 


h  id  been  obliged  to  withdraw  from  the  Independent^  and  take  a 
stand   squarely  opposed  to  its  apparent  policy.     For  he  wrote 

to  a  friend  :  "It  is  well  known  that  I  am  in  a  positive  antagon- 
ism with  the  whole  general  drift  of  the  paper.  Mr.  Bowen  will 
scarcely  recognize  me  on  the  street,  and  feels  bitterly  my  with- 
drawal from  all  part  or  lot  in  the  paper." 

By  December,  1870,  Tilton's  attitude  had  become  decidedly 
hostile.  His  patronizing  had  now  begun  to  change  into  fear. 
For  he  thought  that  Mr.  Beecher  might  become  a  dangerous 
rival  ;  and  when  finally  he  was  retired  from  the  editorship  of 
the  Independent  he  felt  sure  that  it  was  through  some  inten- 
tional and  malign  influence  of  Mr.  Beecher.  That  his  own  con- 
duct and  expressed  opinions  were  responsible  for  the  change,  his 
vanity  would  not  permit  him  to  think. 

As  soon  as  it  was  publicly  known  that  Tilton  had  been  de- 
posed from  the  editorial  chair  of  the  Independent,  the  stories  of 
his  past  life  began  to  pour  in  on  Mr.  Bowen  like  a  flood.  The 
latter  was  alarmed  and  began  to  doubt  the  possibility  of  retain- 
ing him  in  any  capacity. 

The  expression  of  this  fear  to  mutual  friends  led  to  an  inter- 
view between  the  two.  Tilton  characteristically  mounted  his  high 
horse,  and  imperiously  demanded  an  investigation  and  that  he 
be  confronted  with  his  accusers.  In  a  very  few  moments  Mr. 
Bowen  satisfied  him  that  he  was  quite  fully  posted,  and  that  an 
investigation  was  the  last  thing  that  he  would  desire. 

Tilton  then  struck  out  on  a  new  line  of  operations.  Knowing 
Mr.  Bowen's  fear  and  dislike  of  Mr.  Beecher,  intensified  daily  by 
the  steadily  increasing  circulation  of  the  Christian  Union,  Tilton 
cunningly  began  to  suggest  the  great  danger  that  threatened  the 
Independent  from  the  Christian  Union. 

He  struck  the  keynote  to  Bowen's  animosity,  and,  skilfully 
working  on  his  feelings,  he  suggested  that  their  mutual  welfare 
demanded  the  overthrow  of  Mr.  Beecher.  Bowen  was  all  atten- 
tion. To  destroy  Mr.  Beecher,  and  cripple  the  Christian  Union, 
would  be  a  wonderful  stroke  of  good-fortune. 

After  referring  to  the  injuries  that  Bowen  had  suffered  at  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Beecher,  he  suggested  that  he,  too,  had  a  grievance 
against  him.  This  was  news  to  Bowen,  wrho  eagerly  besought 
Tilton  to  tell  him  what  it  was.  He  then  stated  that  Beecher 
had  been  guilty  of  " improper  proposals  "  to  his  wife.     Bowen  was 


494  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

quick  to  discover  the  situation.  This  was  the  first  tangible  bit  of 
evidence  which  had  ever  come  to  him  against  Mr.  Beecher. 
He  had  never  dared  publicly  father  any  of  his  own  stories. 

Now,  if  Tilton  would  attack  Mr.  Beecher  on  such  a  charge,  he 
could  stand  by  and  watch  the  fight  without  becoming  involved 
himself,  but  would  be  ready,  from  his  safe  point  of  vantage,  to 
take  profit  by  the  result,  whichever  way  it  ended.  If  Tilton  suc- 
ceeded, so  much  the  better.  If  he  failed,  he  would  be  rid  of  him, 
and  would  not  be  responsible  for  the  attack,  which  Tilton  would 
both  originate  and  carry  on. 

Mr.  Bowen  suggested  to  Tilton  the  writing  of  a  letter  to 
Mr.  Beecher,  which  was  written,  calling  on  him  to  resign  his  pas- 
torate, and  leave  Brooklyn.  This  Bowen  was  to  carry  to  Mr. 
Beecher,  which  he  did.* 

Mr.  Tilton,  returning  home,  reported  to  his  friend  Francis  D. 
Moulton  what  he  had  done,  and  was  informed  that  he  had  made 

"a fool"   of  himself,   that  he  had  put  himself  in  Bowen's 

hands.  At  this  point  the  conspiracy  may  be  said  to  have  been 
born.  With  the  conspiracy  proper,  from  this  time  out,  Mr. 
Bowen  seems  to  have  had  nothing  to  do.  Both  Tilton  and  Moul- 
ton distrusted  him.  While  his  hostility  towards  Mr.  Beecher  did 
not  abate,  and  he  was  soon  afterwards  clearly  recognized  as  a 
bitter  enemy,  yet  we  do  not  learn  that  he  ever  thereafter  actively 
co-operated  with  the  two  arch-conspirators  ;  for  a  short  time 
after  Tilton's  letter  he  professed  to  be  friendly  to  Mr.  Beecher. 

The  carrying  of  Tilton's  letter  to  Mr.  Beecher,  and  the  call- 
ing in  of  Moulton,  were  the  starting-point  of  this  conspiracy. 

Bowen,  as  we  shall  see  later,  discharged  Tilton  from  both  the 
Independent  and  the  Union. 

The  latter  was  in  desperate  straits,  and  then  it  was  that  he 
and  Moulton  seemed  to  have  come  to  the  determination  to  try 
through  Mr.  Beecher  to  better  Tilton's  fortunes.  At  the  first  it 
is  highly  improbable  that  either  had  any  very  definite  plan  of 
operations  against  Mr.  Beecher,  and  certainly  not  the  faintest 
idea  of  the  desperate  step  they  would  finally  be  driven  to  by  the 


*  We  take  the  details  of  this  interview  from  Tilton's  sworn  testimony 
— very  poor  evidence  by  itself,  but,  as  it  has  never  been  contradicted  by 
Mr.  Bowen,  is  consistent  with  man)'  known  facts  ;  and  as  the  fact  of  the 
interview  was  admitted  by  Mr.  Bowen,  we  have  given  it  place. 


REV.  J/EXKY   WARD  BEECHER. 


495 


logic  of  their  own  falsehoods.  Little  by  little,  deeper  and  deeper, 
they  worked  themselves  into  the  mud  and  mire,  until,  as  a  last 
desperate  venture,  they  were  compelled  to  make  the  final  plunge 
in  the  hope  o\  forcing  through  to  a  solid  footing.  With  this  in- 
troduction we  give  Mr.  Beeeher's  account  of  this  trouble  in  his 
own  words,  as  written  in  1S74,  when  the  facts  were  all  fresh  in 
his  mind ;  condensing  it  somewhat  to  meet  the  requirements 
of  our  space,  and  omitting  details  which,  though  necessary  then, 
need  not  now  be  gone  into.  This  presents  the  history  as  he 
saw  it,  and  shows  how  Moulton  by  cunning  treachery  wormed 
himself  into  Mr.  Beeeher's  confidence  for  the  purpose  of  destroy- 
ing him  : 

"Four  years  ago  Theodore  Tilton  fell  from  one  of  the  proud- 
est editorial  chairs  in  America,  where  he  represented  the  cause  of 
religion,  humanity,  and  patriotism,  and  in  a  few  months  there- 
after became  the  associate  and  representative  of  Victoria  Wood- 
hull  and  the  priest  of  her  strange  cause.  By  his  follies  he  was 
bankrupt  in  reputation,  in  occupation,  and  in  resources.  The  in- 
terior history,  of  which  I  now  give  a  brief  outline,  is  the  history  of 
his  attempts  to  so  employ  me  as  to  reinstate  himself  in  business, 
restore  his  reputation,  and  place  him  again  upon  the  eminence 
from  which  he  had  fallen.  It  is  a  sad  history,  to  the  full  mean- 
ing of  which  I  have  but  recently  awaked.  Entangled  in  a  wilder- 
ness of  complications,  I  followed  until  lately  a  false  theory  and  a 
delusive  hope,  believing  that  the  friend  who  assured  me  of  his 
determination  and  ability  to  control  the  vagaries  of  Mr.  Tilton, 
to  restore  his  household,  to  rebuild  his  fortunes,  and  to  vindicate 
me,  would  be  equal  to  that  promise.  This  self-confessed  failure 
has  made  clear  to  me  what  for  a  long  time  I  did  not  suspect — 
the  real  motive  of  Mr.  Tilton.  My  narrative  does  not  represent  a 
single  standpoint  only  as  regards  my  opinion  of  Theodore  Tilton. 
It  begins  at  my  cordial  intimacy  with  him  in  his  earlier  career, 
and  shows  my  lamentation  and  sorrowful  but  hopeful  affection 
for  him  during  the  period  of  his  initial  wanderings  from  truth 
and  virtue.  It  describes  my  repentance  over  evils  befalling  him 
of  which  I  was  made  to  believe  myself  the  cause ;  my  persevering 
and  finally  despairing  efforts  to  save  him  and  his  family  by  any 
sacrifice  of  myself  not  absolutely  dishonorable ;  and  my  growing 
conviction  that  his  perpetual  follies  and  blunders  rendered  his 
recovery  impossible.     I  can  now  see  that  he  is  and  has  been 


496  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

from  the  beginning  of  this  difficulty  a  selfish  and  reckless 
schemer,  pursuing  a  plan  of  mingled  greed  and  hatred,  and  weav- 
ing about  me  a  network  of  suspicions,  misunderstandings,  plots, 
and  lies,  to  which  my  own  innocent  words  and  acts,  nay,  even 
my  thoughts  of  kindness  toward  him,  have  been  made  to  con- 
tribute. 

"  That  I  was  blind  so  long  to  the  real  nature  of  the  intrigue 
going  on  around  me  was  due  partly  to  my  own  overwhelming 
public  engagements,  partly  to  my  complete  surrender  of  this  affair 
and  all  papers  and  questions  connected  with  it  into  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Moulton,  who  was  intensely  confident  that  he  could  manage 
it  successfully.  I  suffered  much,  but  I  inquired  little.  Mr.  Moul- 
ton was  chary  to  me  of  Mr.  Tilton's  confidences  to  him,  report- 
ing to  me  occasionally  in  a  general  way  Mr.  Tilton's  moods  and 
outbreaks  of  passion  only  as  elements  of  trouble  which  he  was 
able  to  control,  and  as  additional  proofs  of  the  wisdom  of  leaving 
it  to  him.  His  comment  of  the  situation  seemed  to  me,  at  the 
time,  complete,  immersed  as  I  was  in  incessant  cares  and  duties, 
and  only  too  glad  to  be  relieved  from  considering  the  details  of 
such  wretched  complications,  the  origin  and  the  fact  of  which  re- 
main, in  spite  of  all  friendly  intervention,  a  perpetual  burden  to 
my  soul.  I  would  not  read  in  the  papers  about  it  ;  I  would  not 
talk  about  it.  I  made  Moulton  for  a  long  period  my  confidant 
and  my  only  channel  of  information. 

"  From  time  to  time  suspicions  were  aroused  in  me  by  indi- 
cations that  Mr.  Tilton  was  acting  the  part  of  an  enemy ;  but 
these  suspicions  were  repeatedly  allayed  by  his  own  behavior 
towards  me  in  other  moods,  and  by  the  assurances  of  Mr.  Moul- 
ton, who  ascribed  the  circumstances  to  misunderstanding  or  to 
malice  on  the  part  of  others.  It  is  plain  to  me  now  that  it  was 
not  until  Mr.  Tilton  had  fallen  into  disgrace  and  lost  his  salary 
that  he  thought  it  necessary  to  assail  me  with  charges  which  he 
pretended  to  have  had  in  mind  for  six  months.  The  domestic 
offence  which  he  alleged  was  very  quickly  and  easily  put  aside, 
but  yet  in  such  a  way  as  to  keep  my  feelings  stirred  up,  in  order 
that  I  might,  through  my  friends,  be  used  to  extract  from  Mr. 
Bowen  $7,000,  the  amount  of  a  claim  in  dispute  between  them. 
The  check  for  that  sum  in  hand,  Mr.  Tilton  signed  an  agreement 
of  peace  and  concord — not  made  by  me,  but  accepted  by  me  as 
sincere.     The  Golde?i  Age  had  been  started.     He  had  the  capital 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  497 

to  carry  it  on  for  a  while.  He  was  sure  that  he  was  to  lead  a 
great  social  revolution.  With  returning  prosperity  he  had  ap- 
parently no  griefs  which  could  not  be  covered  by  his  signature  to 
the  articles  of  peace.*     Vet   the  changes  in  that  covenant,  made 

by  him  before  signing  it,  and  represented  to  me  as  necessary 
merely  to  relieve  him  from  the  imputation  of  having  originated 
and  circulated  certain  old  and  shameless  slanders  about  me,  were 
really  made,  as  now  appears,  to  leave  him  free  for  future  opera- 
tions upon  me  and  against  me. 

11  So  long  as  he  was,  or  thought  he  was,  on  the  road  to  a  new 
success,  his  conduct  toward  me  was  as  friendly  as  he  knew  how 
to  make  it.  His  assumption  of  superiority  and  magnanimity,  and 
his  patronizing  manner,  were  trifles  at  which  I  could  afford  to 
smile,  and  which  I  bore  with  the  greater  humility  since  I  still  re- 
tained the  profound  impression  made  upon  me  as  explained  in  the 
following  narrative — that  I  had  been  a  cause  of  overwhelming 
disaster  to  him,  and  that  his  complete  restoration  to  public  stand- 
ing and  household  happiness  was  a  reparation  justly  required  of 
me,  and  the  only  one  which  I  could  make. 

"  But,  with  a  peculiar  genius  for  blunders,  he  fell  almost  at 
every  step  into  newr  complications  and  difficulties,  and  in  every 
such  instance  it  was  his  policy  to  bring  coercion  to  bear  upon  my 
honor,  my  conscience,  and  my  affections,  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
curing his  extrication  at  my  expense.  Theodore  Tilton  knew  me 
well.  He  has  said  again  and  again  to  his  friends  that  if  they 
wished  to  gain  influence  over  me  they  must  work  upon  the  sym- 
pathetic side  of  my  nature.  To  this  he  has  addressed  himself 
steadily  for  four  years,  using  as  a  lever,  without  scruple,  my  at- 
tachment to  my  friends,  to  my  family,  to  his  own  household,  and 
even  my  old  affection  for  himself. 

"  Not  blind  to  his  faults,  but  resolved  to  look  on  him  as  fa- 
vorably and  hopefully  as  possible,  and  ignorant  of  his  deeper 
malice,  I  labored  earnestly,  even  desperately,  for  his  salvation. 
For  four  years  I  have  been  trying  to  feed  his  insatiable  egotism, 
to  make  the  man  as  great  as  he  conceived  himself  to  be,  to  re- 
store to  popularity  and  public  confidence  one  who,  in  the  midst 
of  my  efforts  in  his  behalf,  patronized  disreputable  people  and 
doctrines,  refused  when   I  besought  him  to  separate  himself  from 

*  Tripartite  agreement. 


498  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

them,  and  ascribed  to  my  agency  the  increasing  ruin  which  he  was 
persistently  bringing  upon  himself,  and  which  I  was  doing  my  ut- 
most to  avert.  It  was  hard  to  do  anything  for  such  a  man.  I 
might  as  well  have  tried  to  fill  a  sieve  with  water.  In  the  latter 
part  of  the  history  he  actually  incited  and  created  difficulties,  ap- 
parently for  no  other  purpose  than  to  drive  me  to  fresh  exertions. 
I  refused  to  endorse  his  wild  views  and  associates.  The  best  I 
could  do  was  to  speak  well  of  him,  mention  those  good  qualities 
and  abilities  which  I  believed  him  to  possess  in  his  higher  moods, 
and  keeping  silent  concerning  the  evil  things  which,  I  was  as- 
sured and  believed,  had  been  greatly  exaggerated  by  public  re- 
port. I  could  not  think  him  so  bad  as  my  friends  did.  I  trusted 
to  the  germs  of  good  which  I  thought  still  lived  in  him,  to  Mr. 
Moulton's  apparent  power  over  him,  and  to  the  power  of  my 
persistent  self-sacrifice. 

"  Mr.  Moulton  came  to  me  at  first  as  the  schoolmate  and 
friend  of  Mr.  Tilton,  determined  to  reinstate  him,  I  at  first  sus- 
pected, without  regard  to  my  interests,  but  on  further  acquaint- 
ance with  me  he  undertook  and  promised  to  serve  his  friend 
without  doing  wrong  to  me.  He  said  he  saw  clearly  how  this 
was  to  be  done,  so  as  to  restore  peace  and  harmony  to  Mr. 
Tilton's  home,  and  bring  a  happy  end  to  all  misunderstandings. 
Many  things  which  he  counselled  I  absolutely  refused,  but  I 
never  doubted  his  professed  friendship  for  me,  after  friendship 
had  grown  up  between  us  ;  and  whatever  he  wished  me  to  do 
I  did,  unless  it  seemed  to  me  wrong. 

"  My  confidence  in  him  was  the  only  element  that  seemed 
secure  in  that  confusion  of  tormenting  perplexities.  To  him  I 
wrote  freely  in  that  troublous  time,  when  I  felt  that  secret  ma- 
chinations were  going  on  around  me,  and  echoes  of  the  vilest 
slander  concerning  me  were  heard  of  in  unexpected  quarters  ; 
when  some  of  my  near  relatives  were  set  against  me,  and  the 
tattle  of  a  crowd  of  malicious  women,  hostile  to  me  on  other 
grounds,  was  borne  to  my  ears  ;  when  I  had  lost  the  last  remnant 
of  faith  in  Mr.  Tilton  or  hope  for  him  ;  when  I  heard  with  un- 
speakable remorse  that  everything  I  had  done  to  stay  his  destruc- 
tion had  made  matters  worse  and  worse  ;  that  my  attempt  to 
keep  him  from  a  public  trial  (involving  such  a  flood  of  scandal 
as  has  now  been  let  loose)  had  been  used  by  him  to  bring  up  new 
troubles  ;  that  his  unhappy  wife  was,  under  his  dictation,  signing 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


499 


papers  and  recantations,  and  I  knew  not  what  ;  that,  in  short, 
everything  was  breaking  Up,  ami  the  destruction  from  which  I 
had  sought  to  save  the  family  was  likely  to  be  emptied  on  other 
families,  the  church,  the  community,  with  infinite  horrors  of 
for  me  ;  that  my  own  innocence  was  buried  under  heaps  and 
heaps  of  rubbish,  and  nobody  but  my  professed  friend  (if  even 
he)  could  save  us.  To  his  assurances  that  he  could  still  do  so  I 
gave  at  least  so  much  faith  as  to  maintain  under  these  terrible 
trials  the  silence  which  he  enjoined.  Not  until  Mr.  Tilton,  hav- 
ing attempted,  through  Frank  Carpenter,  to  raise  money  from 
my  friends,  openly  assailed  me  in  his  letter  to  Dr.  Bacon,  did  I 
break  that  silence,  save  my  simple  denial  of  the  slanderous 
rumors  against  me  a  year  before. 

"  On  the  appearance  of  the  first  open  attack  from  Mr.  Tilton 
I  immediately,  without  consulting  Mr.  Moulton,  called  for  a 
thorough  investigation  with  a  committee  of  my  church.  I  am 
not  responsible  for  the  delay,  the  publicity,  or  the  details  of  that 
investigation.  All  the  harm  which  I  have  so  long  dreaded  and 
have  so  earnestly  striven  to  avoid  has  come  to  pass.  I  could  not 
have  further  prevented  it  without  a  full  surrender  of  honor  and 
truth.  The  time  has  arrived  when  I  can  freely  speak  in  vindica- 
tion of  myself.  I  labor  under  great  disadvantages  in  making  a 
statement.  My  memory  of  states  of  the  mind  is  clear  and  tena- 
cious, better  than  my  memory  of  dates  and  details.  During  four 
troubled  years,  in  all  of  which  I  have  been  singularly  burdened 
with  public  labor,  having  established  and  conducted  the  Chris- 
tian Union,  delivered  courses  of  lectures,  preaching  before  the 
Theological  Seminary  of  Yale  College,  written  the  first  volume 
of  the  '  Life  of  Christ,'  delivered  each  winter  Lyceum  lectures  in 
all  the  North  and  West — all  these  duties,  with  the  care  of  the 
great  church  and  its  outlying  schools  and  chapels,  and  the  mis- 
cellaneous business  which  falls  upon  a  clergyman  more  than 
upon  any  other  public  man,  I  have  kept  in  regard,  and  now,  with 
the  necessity  of  explaining  actions  and  letters  resulting  from  com- 
plex influences  apparent  at  the  time,  I  find  myself  in  a  position 
where  I  know  my  innocence  without  being  able  to  prove  it  with 
detailed  explanation.  I  am  one  upon  whom  trouble  works  in- 
wardly, making  me  outwardly  silent  but  reverberating  in  the 
chambers  of  my  soul ;  and  when  at  length  I  do  speak  it  is  a  pent- 
up  flood  and  pours  without  measure  or  moderation.     I  inherit  a 


500  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

tendency  to  sadness,  the  remains  in  me  of  positive  hypochondria 
in  my  father  and  grandfather,  and  in  certain  moods  of  reaction 
the  world  becomes  black  and  I  see  very  despairingly. 

"  If  I  were,  in  such  moods,  to  speak  as  I  feel,  I  should  give 
false  colors  and  exaggerated  proportions  of  everything.  This 
manifestation  is  in  such  contrast  to  the  hopefulness  and  courage 
which  I  experience  in  ordinary  times  that  none  but  those  intimate 
with  me  would  suspect  one  so  full  of  overflowing  spirit  and  eager 
gladsomeness  to  have  within  him  a  cave  of  gloom  and  despon- 
dency. Some  of  my  letters  to  Mr.  Moulton  reflect  this  morbid 
feeling.  He  understood  it,  and  at  times  reproved  me  for  indulg- 
ing in  it.  With  this  preliminary  review  I  proceed  to  my  narra- 
tive. 

11  Mr.  Tilton  was  first  known  to  me  as  a  reporter  of  my  ser- 
mons. He  was  then  a  youth  just  from  school  and  working  on  the 
New  York  Observer.  From  this  paper  he  passed  to  the  Indepeti- 
dent,  and  became  a  great  favorite  with  Mr.  Bo  wen.  When,  about 
1 86 1,  Drs.  Bacon,  Storrs,  and  Thompson  resigned  their  places,  I 
became  editor  of  the  Independent,  to  which  I  had  been  from  its 
start  a  contributor.  One  of  the  inducements  held  out  to  me  was 
that  Mr.  Tilton  should  be  my  assistant  and  relieve  me  wholly 
from  routine  office  work.  In  this  relation  I  became  very  much 
attached  to  him.  We  used  to  stroll  the  galleries  and  print-shops 
and  dine  often  together.  His  mind  was  opening  freshly  and  with 
enthusiasm  upon  all  questions.  I  used  to  pour  out  my  ideas  of 
civil  affairs,  public  policy,  religion,  and  philanthropy.  Of  this 
he  often  spoke  with  grateful  appreciation,  and  mourned  at  a  later 
day  over  its  cessation. 

"  August  was  my  vacation  month,  but  my  family  repaired  to 
my  farm  in  June  and  July,  and  remained  there  during  Septem- 
ber and  October.  My  labors  confining  me  to  the  city,  I  took  my 
meals  in  the  families  of  friends,  and  from  year  to  year  I  became 
so  familiar  with  their  children  and  homes  that  I  went  in  and  out 
daily  almost  as  in  my  own  house.  Mr.  Tilton  often  alluded  to 
this  habit,  and  urged  me  to  do  the  same  by  his  house.  He  used 
to  often  speak  in  extravagant  terms  of  his  wife's  esteem  and  af- 
fection for  me.  After  I  began  to  visit  his  house  he  sought  to 
make  it  attractive.  He  urged  me  to  bring  my  papers  down  there 
and  use  his  study  to  do  my  writing  in,  as  it  was  not  pleasant  to 
write  in  the  office  of  the  Independent.     When   I   went  to  England 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  50  I 

in  1S63  Mr.  Tilton  took  temporary    charge  of  the  Independent. 

On  my  return  I  paved  the  way  for  him   to   take  sole  charge  of  it, 

my  name  remaining  for  a  year,  and  then  he  becoming  the  respon- 
sible editor.  Friendly  relations  continued  until  1S66,  when  the 
violent  assaults  made  upon  me  by  Mr.  Tilton  in  the  Independent, 
on  account  of  my  Cleveland  letter,  and  the  temporary  discontinu- 
ation of  the  publication  of  my  sermons  in  that  paper,  broke  off 
my  connection  with  it.  Although  Mr.  Tilton  and  I  remained 
personally  on  good  terms,  yet  there  was  a  coolness  between  us  in 
all  matters  of  politics.  During  this  whole  period  I  never  received 
from  Mr.  Tilton  or  any  member  of  his  family  the  slightest  hint 
that  there  was  any  dissatisfaction  with  my  familiar  relations  to 
his  household.  As  late,  I  think,  as  the  winter  of  1869,  when 
going  upon  an  extended  lecturing  tour,  he  said  :  '  I  wish  you 
would  look  in  after,  and  see  that  Libby  is  not  lonesome  or  does 
not  want  anything,'  or  words  to  that  effect.  Never  by  sign  or 
word  did  Mr.  Tilton  complain  of  my  visits  to  his  family  until  he 
began  to  fear  that  the  Independent  would  be  taken  from  him,  nor 
did  he  break  out  into  violence  until  on  the  eve  of  dispossession 
from  both  the  papers — the  Independent  and  the  Brooklyn  Union 
— owned  by  Mr.  Bowen. 

"  In  the  latter  part  of  July,  1870,  Mrs.  Tilton  was  sick,  and  at 
her  request  I  visited  her.  She  seemed  much  depressed,  but  gave 
me  no  hint  of  any  trouble  having  reference  to  me.  I  cheered 
her  as  best  I  could,  and  prayed  with  her  just  before  leaving. 
This  was  our  last  interview-  before  trouble  broke  out  in  the 
family.  I  describe  it  because  it  was  the  last,  and  its  character 
has  a  bearing  upon  a  later  part  of  my  story.  Concerning  all  my 
visits  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  at  no  interview  which  ever  took 
place  between  Mrs.  Tilton  and  myself  did  anything  occur  whicli  might 
not  have  occurred  with  perfect  propriety  between  a  brother  and  sis  • 
ter,  between  a  father  and  child,  or  between  a  man  of  honor  and  the 
wife  of  his  dearest  friend j  nor  did  anything  ever  happen  which 
she  or  I  sought  to  conceal  from  her  husband. 

"  Some  years  before  any  open  trouble  between  Mr.  Tilton  and 
myself,  his  doctrines,  as  set  forth  in  the  leaders  of  the  Indepen- 
dent, aroused  a  storm  of  indignation  among  the  representative 
Congregationalists  in  the  West  ;  and  as  the  paper  was  still  very 
largely  supposed  to  be  my  organ,  I  was  written  to  on  the  subject. 
In  reply  I  indignantly   disclaimed  all  responsibility  for  the  views 


502  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

expressed  by  Mr.  Tilton.  It  was  understood  that  Mr.  Bowen 
agreed,  in  consequence  of  proceedings  arising  out  of  this  remon- 
strance, to  remove  Mr.  Tilton  or  suppress  his  peculiar  views,  but 
instead  of  that  he  seemed  firmer  in  the  saddle  than  before,  and 
his  loose  notions  of  marriage  and  divorce  began  to  be  shadowed 
editorially.  This  led  to  the  starting  of  the  Advance  in  Chicago, 
to  supersede  the  Independent  in  the  Northwest,  and  Mr.  Bowen 
was  made  to  feel  that  Mr.  Tilton's  management  was  seriously  in- 
juring the  business,  and  Mr.  Tilton  may  have  felt  that  his  posi- 
tion was  being  undermined  by  opponents  of  his  views  with  whom 
he  subsequently  pretended  to  believe  I  was  in  league.  Vague 
intimations  of  his  '  feeling  hard '  toward  me  I  ascribed  to  this 
misconception.     I  had  in  reality  taken  no  step  to  harm  him. 

''After  Mr.  Tilton's  return  from  the  West  in  December,  1870, 
a  young  girl  whom  Mrs.  Tilton  had  taken  into  the  family,  educat- 
ed, and  treated  like  an  own  child  was  sent  to  me  with  an  urgent 
request  that  I  would  visit  Mrs.  Tilton  at  her  mother's.  She  said 
that  Mrs.  Tilton  had  left  her  home  and  gone  to  her  mother's  in 
consequence  of  ill-treatment  of  her  husband.  She  then  gave  an 
account  of  what  she  had  seen  of  cruelty  and  abuse  on  the  part  of 
the  husband  that  shocked  me  ;  I  immediately  visited  Mrs.  Tilton 
at  her  mother's,  and  received  an  account  of  her  home  life,  and 
of  the  despotism  of  her  husband,  and  of  the  management  of  a 
woman  whom  he  had  made  housekeeper,  which  seemed  like  a 
nightmare  dream.  The  question  was  whether  she  should  go 
back  or  separate  for  ever  from  her  husband.  I  asked  permission 
to  bring  my  wife  to  see  them,  whose  judgment  in  all  domestic 
relations  I  thought  better  than  my  own  ;  and  accordingly  a  sec- 
ond visit  was  made.  The  result  of  the  interview  was  that  my 
wife  was  extremely  indignant  toward  Mr.  Tilton,  and  declared 
that  no  consideration  on  earth  would  induce  her  to  remain  an 
hour  with  a  man  who  had  treated  her  with  a  hundredth  part  of 
such  insult  and  cruelty.  I  felt  as  strongly  as  she  did,  but  hesi- 
tated, as  I  always  do,  at  giving  advice  in  favor  of  a  separation. 
It  was  agreed  that  my  wife  should  give  her  final  advice  at 
another  visit.  The  next  day,  when  ready  to  go,  she  wished  a 
final  word  ;  but  there  was  company,  and  the  children  were  pres- 
ent, and  so  I  wrote  on  a  scrap  of  paper,  '  I  incline  to  think  that 
your  view  is  right,  and  that  a  separation  and  a  settlement  of  sup- 
port will  be  wisest,  and  that  in  his  present  desperate  state  her 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  B  El. CI  U.K. 


503 


presence   near  him  is  far  more  likely  to  produce  hatred   than   her 
absence.' 

"  Mrs.  Tilton  did  not  tell  me  that  my  presence  had  anything 
to  d<>  with  this  trouble,  nor  did  she  let  me  know  that  on  the 
July  previous  he  had  extorted  from  her  a  confession  of  excessive 
affection  for  me. 

"On  the  evening  of  December  27,  1870,  Mr.  Bowen,  on  his 
way  home,  called  at  my  house  and  handed  me  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Tilton.  It  was,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember,  in  the  following 
terms  : 

"*  Henry  Ward  Beecher  :  For  reasons  which  you  explicit- 
ly know,  and  which  I  forbear  to  state,  I  demand  that  you  with- 
draw from  the  pulpit  and  quit  Brooklyn  as  a  residence. 


u    t 


Theodore  Tilton.' 


"  I  read  it  over  twice,  and  turned  to  Bowen  and  said  :  '  This 
man  is  crazy ;  this  is  sheer  insanity,'  and  other  like  words.  Mr. 
Bowen  professed  to  be  ignorant  of  the  contents,  and  I  handed 
him  the  letter  to  read.  We  at  once  fell  into  a  conversation 
about  Mr.  Tilton.  He  gave  me  some  account  of  the  reasons 
why  he  had  reduced  him  from  the  editorship  of  the  Independent 
to  the  subordinate  position  of  contributor — namely,  that  Mr.  Til- 
ton's  religious  and  social  views  were  ruining  the  paper.  But  he 
said  as  soon  as  it  was  known  that  he  had  so  far  broken  with  Mr. 
Tilton,  there  came  pouring  in  upon  him  so  many  stories  of  Mr. 
Tilton's  private  life  and  habits  that  he  was  overwhelmed,  and 
that  he  was  now  considering  whether  he  could  consistently  retain 
him  on  the  Brooklyn  Union  or  as  chief  contributor  to  the  Inde- 
pendent. We  conversed  for  some  time,  Mr.  Bowen  wishing  my 
opinion.  It  was  frankly  given.  I  did  not  see  how  he  could 
maintain  his  relations  with  Mr.  Tilton.  The  substance  of  the 
conversation  was  that  Tilton's  inordinate  vanity,  his  fatal  facility 
for  blundering  (for  which  he  had  a  genius),  and  ostentatious  in- 
dependence in  his  own  opinions,  and  general  impracticableness, 
would  keep  the  Union  at  disagreement  with  the  political  party 
for  whose  service  it  was  published  ;  and  now,  added  to  all  this, 
these  revelations  of  these  promiscuous  immoralities  would  make 
his  connection  with  either  paper  fatal  to  its  interests.  I  spoke 
strongly  and  emphatically  under  the   great  provocation  of  his 


504  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

threatening  letter  to  me  and  the  revelation  I  had  just  had  con- 
cerning his  domestic  affairs. 

"  Mr.  Bowen  derided  this  letter  of  Tilton's  which  he  had 
brought  to  me,  and  said  earnestly  that  if  trouble  came  out  of  it  I 
might  rely  upon  his  friendship.  I  learned  afterwards  that  in  the 
further  quarrel,  ending  in  Tilton's  peremptory  expulsion  from 
Bowen's  service,  this  conversation  was  repeated  to  Mr.  Tilton. 
Although  I  have  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Tilton  would  have  lost  his 
place  at  any  rate,  I  have  also  no  doubt  that  my  influence  was  de- 
cisive and  precipitated  his  final  overthrow.  When  I  came  to  think 
it  all  over,  I  felt  very  unhappy  at  the  contemplation  of  Mr.  Til- 
ton's impending  disaster.  I  had  loved  him  much,  and  at  one  time 
he  had  seemed  like  a  son  to  me. 

"  But  now  all  looked  dark ;  he  was  to  be  cast  forth  from  his 
eminent  position,  and  his  affairs  at  home  did  not  promise  that 
sympathy  and  strength  which  make  one's  house,  as  mine  has  been, 
in  times  of  adversity,  a  refuge  from  the  storm  and  a  tower  of  de- 
fence. 

"It  now  appears  that  on  the  29th  of  December,  1870,  Mr. 
Tilton,  having  learned  that  I  had  replied  to  his  threatening  letter, 
by  expressing  such  an  opinion  of  him  as  to  set  Mr.  Bowen  finally 
against  him,  and  bring  him  face  to  face  with  immediate  ruin,  ex- 
torted from  his  wife,  then  suffering  under  a  severe  illness,  a  docu- 
ment incriminating  me,  and  prepared  an  elaborate  attack  upon 
me. 

"  In  my  then  morbid  condition  of  mind  I  thought  that  this 
charge,  although  entirely  untrue,  might  result  in  great  disaster,  if 
not  absolute  ruin.  The  great  interests  which  were  entirely  de- 
pendent on  me,  the  church  which  I  had  built  up,  the  book  which 
I  was  writing,  my  own  immediate  family,  my  brother's  name,  now 
engaged  in  the  ministry,  my  sisters,  the  name  which  I  had  hoped 
might  live  after  me  and  be  in  some  slight  degree  a  source  of 
strength  and  encouragement  to  those  who  should  succeed  me, 
and,  above  all,  the  cause  for  which  I  had  devoted  my  life,  seemed 
imperilled.  It  seemed  to  me  that  my  life-work  was  to  end  ab- 
ruptly and  in  disaster.  My  earnest  desire  to  avoid  a  public  ac- 
cusation, and  the  evils  which  must  necessarily  flow  from  it,  and 
which  now  have  resulted  from  it,  has  been  one  of  the  leading 
motives  that  must  explain  my  action  during  these  four  years  with 
reference  to  this  matter. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER, 


505 


"It  was  in  such  a  sore  and  distressing  condition  that  Mr. 
Moulton  found  me.  His  manner  was  kind  and  conciliatory;  he 
seemed,  however,  to  be  convinced  that  1  had  been  seeking  Til- 
ton's  downfall,  that  I  had  leagued  with  Mr.  Bowen  against  him, 
and  that  I  had  by  my  advice  come  near  destroying  his  family.  I 
did  not  need  any  argument  or  persuasion  to  induce  me  to  do,  and 
say,  anything  which  would  remedy  the  injury,  of  which  I  then  be- 
lieved, 1  had  certainly  been  the  occasion  if  not  the  active  cause. 
But  Mr.  Moulton  urged  that,  having  wronged  so,  the  wrong  meant 
his  means  of  support  taken  away,  his  reputation  gone,  his  family 
destroyed,  and  that  I  had  done  it.  He  assured  me  of  his  own 
knowledge  that  the  stories  which  1  had  heard  against  Mr.  Tilton, 
and  which  I  had  believed  and  repeated  to  Mr.  Bowen,  were  all 
false.  I  was  persuaded  into  the  belief  of  what  he  had  said,  and 
felt  convicted  of  slander  in  its  meanest  form.  He  drew  the  pic- 
ture of  Mr.  Tilton  wronged  in  reputation,  in  position,  wronged  in 
purse,  shattered  in  his  family  where  he  would  otherwise  have  found 
a  refuge,  and  at  the  same  time  looking  upon  me  out  of  his  deep 
distress,  while  I  was  abounding  in  friends,  most  popular,  and  with 
ample  means;  he  drew  that  picture — my  prosperity  overflowing  and 
abounding,  and  Tilton's  utter  degradation.  I  was  most  intensely 
excited.  Indeed,  I  felt  that  my  mind  was  in  danger  of  giving 
way.  I  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  pouring  forth  my  heart  in 
the  most  unrestrained  grief  and  bitterness  of  self-accusation,  tell- 
ing what  my  ideas  were  of  the  obligation  of  friendship  and  of 
the  sacredness  of  the  household  ;  denying,  however,  an  inten- 
tional wrong,  saying  that  if  I  had  been  the  cause,  however  re- 
motely, of  that  which  I  then  beheld,  I  never  could  forgive  my- 
self, and  heaping  all  the  blame  on  my  own  head.  The  case,  as  it 
then  appeared  to  my  eyes,  was  strongly  against  me.  My  old  fel- 
low-worker had  been  dispossessed  of  his  eminent  place  and  in- 
fluence, and  I  had  counselled  it.  His  family  had  well-nigh  been 
broken  up,  and  I  had  advised  it  ;  his  wife  had  been  long  sick  and 
broken  in  health  and  body,  and  I,  as  I  fully  believed  it,  had  been 
the  cause  of  all  this  wreck  by  continuing  that  blind  heedlessness 
and  friendship  which  had  beguiled  her  heart  and  had  roused  her 
husband  into  a  fury  of  jealousy,  although  not  caused  by  any  in- 
tentional act  of  mine.  And  should  I  coldly  defend  myself  ? 
Should  I  pour  indignation  upon  this  lady  ?  Should  I  hold  her  up 
to  contempt  as  having  thrust  her  affections  upon  me  unsought  ? 


506  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Should  I  tread  upon  the  man  and  his  household  in  their  great 
adversity  ?  I  gave  vent  to  my  feelings  without  measure.  I  dis- 
claimed with  the  greatest  earnestness  all  intent  to  harm  Theodore 
in  his  home  or  his  business,  and  with  inexplicable  sorrow  I  both 
blamed  and  defended  Mrs.  Tilton  in  one  breath. 

"  I  had  not  then  the  light  that  I  now  have.  There  was  much 
then  that  weighed  heavily  upon  my  heart  and  conscience  which 
now  weighs  only  on  my  heart.  I  had  not  the  light  which  ana- 
lyzes and  discriminates  things.  By  one  blow  there  opened  before 
me  a  revelation  full  of  anguish  :  an  agonized  family,  whose  in- 
mates had  been  my  friends,  greatly  beloved  ;  the  husband  ruined 
in  worldly  prospects,  the  household  crumbling  to  pieces,  the 
woman,  by  long  sickness  and  suffering,  either  corrupted  to  de- 
ceit, as  her  husba,nd  alleged,  or  so  broken  in  mind  as  to  be 
irresponsible  ;  and  either  way  it  was  her  enthusiasm  for  her  pas- 
tor, as  I  was  made  to  believe,  that  was  the  germ  and  beginning 
of  the  trouble.  It  was  for  me  to  have  forestalled  and  prevented 
that  mischief.  My  age  and  experience  in  the  world  should  have 
put  me  more  on  my  guard.  I  could  not  at  that  time  tell  what 
was  true,  and  what  was  not  true,  of  all  the  considerations  urged 
upon  me  by  Mr.  Tilton  and  Moulton.  There  was  a  gulf  be- 
fore me  in  which  lay  those  who  had  been  warm  friends,  and 
they  alleged  that  I  had  helped  to  plunge  them  therein.  That 
seemed  enough  to  fill  my  soul  with  sorrow  and  anguish.  No 
mother  who  has  lost  a  child  but  will  understand  the  wild  self- 
accusation  that  grief  produced,  against  all  reason,  blaming  her- 
self for  what  things  she  did  do,  and  for  what  she  neglected  to 
do,  and  charging  upon  herself,  her  neglect  or  heedlessness,  the 
death  of  her  child,  while  ordinarily  every  one  knows  that  she 
had  worn  herself  out  with  her  assiduities. 

"  Mr.  Moulton  and  Mr.  Tilton  both  strove  to  obliterate  from 
my  mind  all  belief  in  the  rumors  that  had  been  circulated  about 
Mr.  Tilton.  There  was  much  going  on  in  silencing,  explaining, 
arranging,  etc.,  that  I  did  not  understand  as  well  then  as  now. 
But  of  one  thing  I  was  then  convinced,  viz.,  that  Mr.  Tilton  had 
never  straye'd  from  the  path  of  virtue.  I  was  glad  to  believe  it 
true,  and  felt  how  hard  it  was  that  he  should  be  made  to  suffer 
by  evil  and  slanderous  foes.  I  could  not  explain  some  testimony 
which  had  been  laid  before  me  ;  but,  I  said,  there  is  undoubtedly 
some  misunderstanding,  and  if  I  knew  the  whole  I  should  find 


REV.  IlEXRY  WARP  BEECH&R,  507 

Theodore,  though  with  obvious  faults,  at  heart  sound  and  good. 
rhese  views  1  often  expressed  to  intimate  friends  in  spite  of  their 
manifest   Incredulity,   and  what,  in  the  light  of  the  facts,  I  must 

now  call  their  well-deserved  ridicule.  Mr.  Moulton  lost  no  00 
casion    of  presenting   to  me  the  kindest   view   of  Mr.    Tilton's 

character  and  conduct.  On  the  other  hand,  he  complained  that 
Mrs.  Tilton  did  not  trust  her  husband  or  him,  and  did  not  assist 
him  in  his  effort  to  help  Theodore.  I  knew  that  she  distrusted 
Mr.  Moulton,  and  felt  bitterly  hurt  by  the  treatment  of  her  hus- 
band. I  was  urged  to  use  my  influence  with  her  to  inspire  confi- 
dence in  Moulton  and  to  lead  her  to  take  a  kinder  view  of 
Theodore.  Accordingly,  at  the  instance  of  Mr.  Moulton,  on 
February  7,  1871,  I  wrote  a  letter  to  her  of  that  date,  designed 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  her  confidence  in  Mr.  Moulton. 

"  In  my  letter  to  Mrs.  Tilton  I  alluded  to  the  fact  that  I  did 
not  expect,  when  I  saw  her  last,  to  be  alive  many  days.  That 
statement  stands  connected  with  a  series  of  symptoms  which  I 
fust  experienced  in  1856.  I  went  through  the  Fremont  cam- 
paign, speaking  in  the  open  air  three  hours  at  a  time,  three  days 
in  the  week.  On  renewing  my  literary  labors  I  felt  I  must  have 
given  way;  I  very  seriously  thought  that  I  was  going  to  have  apo- 
plexy or  paralysis,  or  something  of  the  kind.  On  two  or  three 
occasions,  while  preaching,  I  should  have  fallen  in  the  pulpit  if 
I  had  not  held  on  to  the  table.  Very  often  I  came  near  falling 
in  the  streets.  During  the  last  fifteen  years  I  have  gone  into  the 
pulpit,  I  suppose  a  hundred  times,  with  a  very  strong  impression 
that  I  should  never  come  out  of  it  alive.  I  have  preached  more 
sermons  than  any  human  being  would  believe,  when  I  felt  all  the 
while,  that  whatever  I  had  got  to  say  to  my  people  I  must  say 
then,  or  I  never  would  have  another  chance  to  say  it.  If  I  had 
consulted  a  physician,  his  first  advice  would  have  been,  '  You 
must  stop  work.'  But  I  was  in  such  a  situation  that  I  could  not 
stop  work.  I  read  the  best  medical  books  on  symptoms  of  ner- 
vous prostration,  and  overwork,  and  paralysis,  and  formed  my 
own  judgment  of  my  case.  The  three  points  I  marked  were  :  I 
must  have  good  digestion,  good  sleep,  and  I  must  go  on  work- 
ing. These  three  things  were  to  be  reconciled;  and  in  regard  to 
my  diet,  stimulants,  and  medicines  I  made  the  most  thorough 
and  searching  trial,  and,  as  the  result,  managed  my  body  so 
that  I   could  get   the    most    work    out  of    it  without   essentially 


508  biography  of 

impairing  it.  If  I  had  said  a  word  about  this  to  my  family,  it 
would  have  brought  such  distress  and  anxiety  on  the  part  of  my 
wife,  as  I  could  not  have  borne.  I  have  for  many  years  so  stead- 
ily taxed  my  mind  to  the  utmost  that  there  have  been  periods 
when  I  could  not  afford  to  have  people  express  even  sympathy 
with  me.  To  have  my  wife  or  friends  anxious  about  my  health, 
and  showing  it  to  me,  would  be  just  the  drop  too  much. 

"In  1863  I  came  again  into  the  same  condition  just  before 
going  to  England,  and  that  was  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  wished 
to  go.  The  war  was  at  its  height.  I  carried  my  country  in 
my  heart.  I  had  the  Independent  in  charge,  and  was  working, 
preaching,  and  lecturing  continually.  I  knew  I  was  likely  to  be 
prostrated  again. 

"  In  December,  1870,  the  sudden  shock  of  these  troubles 
brought  on  again  these  symptoms  in  a  more  violent  form.  I  was 
very  much  depressed  in  mind7  and  all  the  more,  because  it  was 
one  of  those  things  that  I  could  not  say  anything  about  ;  I  was 
silent  with  everybody.  During  the  last  four  years  these  symp- 
toms had  been  repeatedly  brought  on  by  my  intense  work,  car- 
ried forward  on  the  underlying  basis  of  so  much  sorrow  and 
trouble. 

"  My  friends  will  bear  witness,  that  in  the  pulpit,  I  have  very 
frequently  alluded  to  my  expectation  of  sudden  death.  I  feel 
that  I  have  more  than  once,  already,  been  near  a  stroke  that 
would  have  killed  or  paralyzed  me,  d*nd  I  carry  with  me  now, 
as  I  have  so  often  carried,  in  years  before  this  trouble  began,  the 
daily  thought  of  death,  as  a  door  which  might  open  for  me,  at 
any  moment,  out  of  all  cares  and  labors  into  most  welcome  rest.* 

*  These  impressions  of  impending  death  he  carried  with  him  con- 
stantly during  the  year  or  two  just  preceding  the  final  outbreak  of  this 
plot. 

In  the  spring  of  1873  he  wrote  to  his  wife  : 

"My  dear  Wife:  Thanks  for  your  letter  from  Jacksonville.  It 
cheered  me.  God  knows  that  I  do  not  need  any  more  loads;  and  a  com- 
forting letter  never  could  come  to  a  better  market. 

"  My  life  is  almost  over.  I  am  like  one  waiting  for  the  stage,  his 
things  all  packed.  The  world  is  bright  enough  and  good  enough,  and  I 
enjoy  a  hundred  things  in  it,  and  am  neither  moody  nor  morbid.  Yet  I 
have  an  abiding  sense  that  my  work  is  almost  done.  Every  new  thing 
done,  lecture,  sermon,  or  course  of  lectures,  I  count  as  clear  gain — so 
much  more  than  I  expected.     What  the  other   life  is  I  do  not  know,  and 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  509 

"During  the  whole  of  the  year  1S71  I  was  kept  in  a  si 
suspen>e  and  doubt,  not  only  as  to  the  future  of  the  family,  for 
the  reunion  and  happiness  of  which  I  had  striven  so  earnestly, 
but  as  to  the  degree  to  which  I  might  be  personally  subject  to 
attack  and  misconstruction,  and  the  trouble  be  brought  into  the 
church  and  magnified  by  publicity.     The  officers  of  the  church 

j  ;it  to  investigate  Mr.  Tilton's  religious  views  and  moral  con- 
duct. On  the  latter  point  I  had  been  deceived  into  the  belief 
that  he  was  not  in  fault.  As  to  the  religious  views,  I  still  hoped 
for  a  change  for  the  better.  It  was  proposed  to  drop  him  from 
the  list  of  members  for  non-attendance;  and  as  he  asserted  to  me 
his  withdrawal,  this  might  have  been  done,  but  his  wife  still  at- 
tended the  church  and  hoped  for  his  restoration.  I  recollect 
having  with  him  a  conversation  in  which  he  dimly  hinted  to  me 
that  he  thought  it  not  unlikely  that  he  might  go  back  into  his  old 
position.  He  seemed  to  be  in  a  mood  to  regret  the  past.  And 
so,  when  I  was  urged  by  the  Examining  Committee  to  take  some 
steps,  I  said  I  was  not  without  hopes  that   by  patience  and  kind- 


none  know  so  little  as  those  who  pretend  to  know  best.  That  it  will  be 
bright  and  gladdening  I  am  sure;  that  is  all.  That  I  have  had  success 
and  achieved  something  gives  me  pleasure,  chietly  because  my  life  has 
been  used  for  those  who  were  weak  and  helpless.  My  lot  has  been  cast 
in  a  time  when  the  rights  of  the  under-classes  were  to  be  considered. 
That  I  have  been  identified  with  that  great  movement  of  humanity  is  re- 
ward enough,  and  is  the  chief  satisfaction  which  I  take  in  the  retrospect. 
But  enough,  enough." 

In  another  letter  : 

"  I  wish  I  were  with  you.  When  you  are  gone  I  feel  how  much  you 
are  to  me.  May  God  keep  you  for  me  for  many  years  to  come,  if  many 
years  are  in  store  for  me. 

"  Your  loving  but  heavy-hearted  husband, 

"  H.  W.  B." 

In  his  private  diary  he  wrote: 

"  I  have  not  lived  for  myself;  all  my  force  has  been  devoted  to  the 
promotion  of  men's  happiness — happiness  through  justice,  truth,  good- 
ness. Whatever  prosperity  I  have  had  came  to  me  almost  unconsciously, 
certainly  not  by  any  wit  or  wisdom  of  my  own.  I  am  grateful  for  having 
lived.     I  shall  go  without  murmur  or  discontent. 

"  I  hope  that  there  will  be  those  who  will  be  sorry  when  I  leave,  and 
those  beyond  who  will  be  glad  when  I  arrive." 

This  same  feeling  remained  with  him,  more  or  less,  though  not  in  so 
pronounced  a  form,  through  the  remainder  of  his  life. 


5  T  O  BIO GRA  PHY  OF 

ness  Tilton  might  come  back  again  into  his  old  church  works  and 
be  one  of  us  once  more.  I  therefore  delayed  a  decision  upon  this 
point  for  a  long  time.  Many  of  our  members  were  anxious  and 
impatient,  and  there  were  many  tokens  of  trouble  from  this  quar- 
ter. Meanwhile  one  wing  of  the  female-suffrage  party,  had  got 
hold  of  his  story  in  a  distorted  and  exaggerated  form,  such  as 
had  never  been  intimated  to  me  by  Mr.  Tilton  or  his  friends. 
I  did  not  then  suspect  what  I  now  know,  that  these  atrociously 
false  rumors  originated  with  Mr.  Tilton  himself.  I  only  saw  the 
evil  growing  instead  of  diminishing,  and  perceived  that  while  I 
was  pledged  to  silence,  and  therefore  could  not  speak  in  my  own 
defence,  some  one  was  for  ever  persevering  in  falsehood,  grow- 
ing continually  in  dimensions,  and  these  difficulties  were  im- 
mensely increased  by  the  affiliation  of  Mr.  Tilton  with  the 
extremists  in  the  female-suffrage  party. 

"The  winter  following  (1871-72)  Mr.  Tilton  returned  from 
the  lecture-field  in  despair.  Engagements  had  been  cancelled, 
invitations  withdrawn,  and  he  spoke  of  the  prejudice  and  repug- 
nance with  which  he  was  everywhere  met  as  indescribable.  I 
urged  him  to  make  a  prompt  repudiation  of  these  women  and 
their  doctrines.  I  told  him  that  no  man  could  rise  against  the 
public  sentiment  with  such  a  load.  Mr.  Tilton's  vanity  seldom 
allowed  him  to  regard  himself  as  in  the  wrong  or  his  actions 
faulty.  He  could  never  be  made  to  believe  that  his  failure  to 
rise  again  was  caused  by  his  partnership  with  these  women,  and 
by  his  want  of  sensible  work,  which  work  should  make  the  pub- 
lic feel  that  he  had  in  him  power  for  good.  Instead  of  this  he 
preferred,  or  professed,  to  think  that  I  was  using  my  influence 
against  him,  that  I  was  allowing  him  to  be  traduced  without 
coming  generously  to  the  front  to  defend  him,  and  that  un- 
friends were  working  against  him;  to  which  I  replied  that,  unless 
the  laws  of  mind  were  changed,  not  Almighty  God  Himself  could 
lift  him  into  favor  if  these  women  must  be  lifted  with  him.  Never- 
theless I  sought  in  every  way  to  restore  peace  and  concord  to  the 
family  which  I  was  made  to  feel  had  been  injured  by  me  and 
was  dependent  on  my  influence  for  recovery. 

"  But  one  thing  was  constant  and  apparent — when  Tilton,  by 
lecturing  or  otherwise,  was  prosperous,  he  was  very  genial  and 
affectionate  to  me.  Whenever  he  met  rebuffs  and  was  in  pecuni- 
ary trouble,  he  scowled  threateningly  upon  me  as  the  author  of 


RE  V.   II ES  'K  V   HARD   BEE  ( III-  A\  5  I  I 

his  troubles,  and  Moulton  himself  seemed  .it  times  to  accuse  me 
of  indifference  to  Tilton's  misfortunes. 

"  I  now  come  in  my  narrative  to  give  an  account  of  the  origin 

of  the  somewhat    famous   tripartite  agreement.      Early  in  Febru- 
ary,   1 S7 j,  Mr.  TiltOD   returned    to  the    city   thoroughly   discour- 
i  with  the   result   of  his   lecturing   tour.     The  Golden  Age  (a 

paper  organized  for  Tilton  by  his  friends),  which  had  then  been 
established  for  about  twelve  months,  had  not  succeeded,  and  was 
understood  to  be  losing  money.  His  pecuniary  obligations  were 
j  (reusing,  and  although  his  claim  against  Bo  wen  for  the  violation 
of  his  two  contracts  had  a  year  previously  been  put  under  the 
exclusive  control  of  Moulton  with  a  view  of  settlement,  it  had 
not  as  yet  been  effected.  About  this  time  Mr.  Moulton,  who  was 
sick,  sent  for  me  and  showed  me  a  galley-proof  of  an  article,  pre- 
pared by  Mr.  Tilton  for  the  Golden  Age,  in  which  he  embodied 
a  copy  of  a  letter  written  by  him  to  Mr.  Bowen,  dated  January  1, 
187 1,  in  which  he  charged  Mr.  Bowen  with  making  scandalous 
accusations  against  my  character.  This  was  the  first  time  that  I 
had  ever  seen  these  charges,  and  I  had  never  heard  of  them  ex- 
cept by  mere  rumor,  Mr.  Bowen  never  having,  at  any  time,  said 
a  word  to  me  on  the  subject.  I  was  amazed  at  the  proposed 
publication.  I  did  not  then  understand  the  real  object  of  giving 
circulation  to  such  slanders.  My  first  impression  was  that  Mr. 
Tilton  designed,  under  cover  of  an  attack  upon  me  in  the  name 
of  another,  to  open  the  way  for  the  publication  of  his  own  pre- 
tended personal  grievances.  I  protested  against  the  publication 
in  the  strongest  terms,  but  was  informed  that  it  was  not  intended 
as  an  hostile  act  to  myself,  but  to  Mr.  Bowen.  I  did  not  any 
the  less  insist  upon  my  protest  against  this  publication.  On  its 
being  shown  to  Mr.  Bowen  he  was  thoroughly  alarmed,  and 
speedily  consented  to  the  appointment  of  arbitrators  to  bring 
about  an  amicable  settlement.  The  result  of  this  proceeding 
was  that  Mr.  Bowen  paid  Mr.  Tilton  over  $7,000,  and  that  a 
written  agreement  was  entered  into  by  Bowen,  Tilton,  and  my- 
self of  amnesty,  concord,  and  future  peace.*  It  was  agreed  that 
the  offensive  article,  the  publication  of  which  had  produced  such 


*  "We  three  men,  earnestly  desiring  to  remove  all  causes  of  offence 
existing  between  us,  real  or  fancied,  and  to  make  Christian  reparation  for 
injuries  done,  or  supposed  to  have  been  done,  and  to  efface  the  disturbed 


512  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

an  effect  upon  Mr.  Bowen  and  secured  a  settlement,  should  be 
destroyed  without  seeing  the  light.  It  was  an  act  of  treachery 
peculiarly  base  that  this  article  was  permitted  to  get  into  hands 
which  would  insure  its  publication,  and  that  it  was  published.     I 

past,  and  to  provide  concord,  good-will,  and  love  for  the  future,  do  declare 
and  covenant  each  to  the  others  as  follows  : 

"  I.  I,  Henry  C.  Bowen,  having  given  credit,  perhaps  without  due 
consideration,  to  tales  and  innuendoes  affecting  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  and 
being  influenced  by  them,  as  was  natural  to  a  man  who  receives  impres- 
sions suddenly,  to  the  extent  of  repeating  them  (guardedly,  however,  and 
within  limitations,  and  not  for  the  purpose  of  injuring  him,  but  strictly  in 
the  confidence  of  consultation),  now  feel  therein  that  I  did  him  wrong. 

"  Therefore  I  disavow  all  the  charges  and  imputations  that  have  been 
attributed  to  me,  as  having  been  by  me  made  against  Henry  Ward  Beecher, 
and  I  declare  fully  and  without  reserve  that  I  know  nothing  which  should 
prevent  me  from  extending  to  him  my  most  cordial  friendship,  confidence, 
and  Christian  fellowship;  and  I  expressly  withdraw  all  the  charges,  impu- 
tations, and  innuendoes  imputed  as  having  been  made  and  uttered  by  me, 
and  set  forth  in  a  letter  written  to  me  by  Theodore  Tilton  on  the  ist  day  of 
January,  1S71;  and  I  sincerely  regret  having  made  any  imputations,  charges, 
or  innuendoes  unfavorable  to  the  Christian  character  of  Mr.  Beecher,  and  I 
covenant  and  promise  that  for  all  future  time  I  will  never  by  word  or  deed 
recur  to,  repeat,  or  allude  to  any  or  either  of  said  charges,  imputations,  and 
innuendoes. 

"  II.  And  I,  Theodore  Tilton,  do,  of  my  own  free  will  and  friendly 
spirit  toward  Henry  C.  Bowen  and  Henn-  Ward  Beecher,  hereby  covenant 
and  agree  that  I  will  never  again  repeat,  by  word  of  mouth  or  otherwise, 
any  of  the  allegations,  or  imputations,  or  innuendoes  contained  in  my  letter 
hereunto  annexed,  or  any  other  injurious  imputations  or  allegations  sug 
gested  by  or  growing  out  of  these;  and  that  I  will  never  again  bring  up  or 
hint  at  any  cause  of  difference  or  ground  of  complaint  heretofore  existing 
between  the  said  Henry  C.  Bowen  and  myself  or  the  said  Henry  Ward 
Beecher. 

"III.  And  I,  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  put  the  past  for  ever  out  of 
sight  and  out  of  memory.  I  deeply  regret  the  causes  of  suspicion,  jealousy, 
and  estrangement  which  have  come  between  us.  It  is  a  joy  to  me  to  have 
my  old  regard  for  Henry  C.  Bowen  and  Theodore  Tilton  restored,  and  a 
happiness  to  me  to  resume  the  old  relations  of  love,  respect,  and  reliance 
to  each  and  both  of  them.  If  I  have  said  anything  injurious  to  the  reputa- 
tion of  either,  or  have  detracted  from  their  standing  and  fame  as  Christian 
gentlemen  and  members  of  my  church,  I  revoke  it  all,  and  heartily  cove- 
nant to  repair  and  reinstate  them  to  the  extent  of  my  power. 

"Henry  Ward  Beecher. 
"Theodore  Tilton. 
"Henry  C.  Bowen." 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  513 

tssured  that  every  vestige  of  it  had  been  destroyed,  nor  until 
a  comparatively  recent  period  did  1  understand  how  Mr.  Tilton 
secured  its  publication  without  seeming  to  be  himself  responsible 

for  the  deed. 

"After  vainly  attempting  to  obtain  money  both  from  myself 
and  my  wife  as  the  price  of  its  suppression,  the  Woodhull  women 

published  their  version  of  the  Tilton  scandal  in  the  November  of 
1872.  The  details  given  by  them  were  so  minute,  though  so  dis- 
torted, that  suspicion  was  universally  directed  toward  Mr.  'Tilton 
as  the  real  author  of  this,  which  he  so  justly  calls  '  a  wicked  and 
horrible  scandal,'  though  it  is  not  a  whit  more  horrible  than  that 
which  he  has  now  fathered,  and  not  half  so  wicked,  because  they 
did  not  have  personal  knowledge  of  the  falsity  of  their  story,  as 
Mr.  Tilton  has  of  his. 

"  To  rid  himself  of  this  incubus  Mr.  Tilton  drew  up  a  volu- 
minous paper  called  '  A  true  statement,'  but  which  was  familiarly 
called  '  Tilton's  case.'  Tilton's  furor  for  compiling  statements 
was  one  of  my  familiar  annoyances.  Moulton  used  to  tell  me 
that  the  only  way  to  manage  him  was  to  let  him  work  off  his  pe- 
riodical passion  on  some  such  document,  and  then  to  pounce  on 
the  document  and  suppress  it.  This  particular  '  true  statement ' 
was  a  special  plea  in  abatement  of  the  prejudices  excited  by  his 
Woodhull  partnership.  It  was  a  muddle  of  garbled  statements, 
manufactured  documents,  and  downright  falsehoods.  This  paper 
I  knew  he  read  to  many,  and  I  am  told  that  he  read  it  to  not  less 
than  fifty  persons,  in  which  he  did  not  pretend  to  charge  immoral- 
ity upon  his  wife  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  explicitly  denied  it  and  as- 
serted her  purity,  but  charged  me  with  improper  overtures  to  her. 
It  was  this  paper  which  he  read  to  Dr.  Storrs,  and  poisoned  there- 
with his  mind,  thus  leading  to  the  attempt  to  prosecute  Tilton  in 
Plymouth  Church,  the  interference  of  neighboring  churches,  and 
the  calling  of  the  Congregational  Council.  After  the  Woodhull 
story  was  published,  and  while  Mr.  Tilton  seemed  really  desirous 
for  a  short  time  of  protecting  his  wife,  I  sent  through  him  the 
following  letter  to  her  : 

"  'My  dear  Mrs.  Tilton  :  I  hoped  that  you  would  be  shield- 
ed from  the  knowledge  of  the  great  wrong  that  has  been  done  to 
you,  and  through  you  to  universal  womanhood.  I  can  hardly 
bear  to  speak  of  it  or  allude  to  a  matter  than  which  nothing  can 


514  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

be  imagined  more  painful  to  a  pure  and  womanly  nature.  I 
pray  daily  for  you  "  that  your  faith  fail  not."  You  yourself  know 
the  way  and  the  power  of  prayer.  God  has  been  your  refuge  in 
many  sorrows  before.  He  will  now  hide  you  in  His  pavilion  until 
the  storm  be  overpast.  The  rain  that  beats  down  the  flower  to 
the  earth  shall  pass  at  length,  and  the  stem  bent  but  not  broken 
will  rise  again  and  blossom  as  before.  Every  pure  woman  on 
earth  will  feel  that  this  wanton  and  unprovoked  assault  is  aimed 
at  you,  but  reaches  to  universal  womanhood.  Meantime  your 
dear  children  will  love  you  with  double  tenderness,  and  Theo- 
dore, at  whom  the  shafts  are  hurled,  will  hide  you  in  his  heart  of 
hearts.  I  am  glad  that  revelation  from  the  pit  has  given  him 
a  sight  of  the  danger  that  was  before  hidden  by  spurious  ap- 
pearances and  promises  of  usefulness.  May  God  keep  him  in 
courage  in  this  arduous  struggle  which  he  wages  against  adversi- 
ty, and  bring  him  out  through  much  trial,  like  gold  seven  times 
fined  !  I  have  not  spoken  of  myself.  No  words  could  express 
the  sharpness  and  depth  of  my  sorrow  in  your  behalf,  my  dear 
and  honored  friend.  God  walks  in  the  fire  by  the  side  of  those 
He  loves,  and  in  heaven  neither  you  nor  Theodore  nor  I  shall 
regret  the  discipline,  how  hard  soever  it  may  seem  now.  May  He 
restrain  and  turn  those  poor  creatures  who  have  been  given  over 
to  do  all  this  sorrowful  harm  to  those  who  have  deserved  no  such 
treatment  at  their  hands  !  I  commend  you  to  my  mother's  God, 
my  dear  friend  !  May  His  smile  bring  light  in  darkness,  and  His 
love  be  a  perpetual  summer  to  you  ! 

"Very  truly  yours, 

"  Henry  Ward  Beecher." 

"  The  whole  series  of  events,  beginning  with  the  outbreak  of 
the  Woodhull  story,  brought  upon  me  a  terrible  accumulation 
of  anxieties.  Everything  that  had  threatened  before  now  start- 
ed up  again  with  new  violence.  Tilton's  behavior  was  at  once 
inexplicable  and  uncontrollable.  His  card  -  to  a  complaining 
friend '  did  not  produce  the  effect  he  pretended  to  expect  from 
it,  of  convincing  the  public  of  his  great  magnanimity.  Then 
his  infamous  article  and  letter  to  Mr.  Bowen  made  its  appear- 
ance in  the  Eagle,  It  had  been  suggested  that  the  publica- 
tion of  the  '  tripartite  covenant '  would  have  a  good  effect  in  coun- 
teracting the  slanderous  stories  about  Mrs.  Tilton  and  myself, 


V.  HENRY  !'  ECHER.  5  15 

which  Tilton  professed  to  regard,  but  which  his  foolish  card  and 
the  publication  of  that  article  had  done  so  much  to  revive  and 
render  mischievous.  Mr.  Moulton  urged  mc  to  get  from  the  gen- 
tleman who  held  the  'tripartite  covenant'  .1  cop)  oi  it  torus, 
when  suddenly  Mr.  Wilkeson  came  out  with  it  on  his  own  respon- 
sibility. Its  publication  in  this  manner  I  made  strenuous  but 
unavailing  efforts  to  prevent.  He  had  originally  kept  a  copy  of 
it.  (Everybody  in  this  business  seems  to  have  copies  of  every- 
thing except  myself.)  On  the  appearance  of  that  paper  Tilton 
went  into  a  rage.  It  put  him,  he  said,  in  a  '  false  position'  before 
the  public,  and  he  said  he  would  publish  another  card  giving  a 
statement  something  like  what  he  afterward  wrote  to  Dr.  Bacon — 
that  is,  as  I  recollect  the  matter,  declaring  that  I  had  committed 
an  offence,  and  that  he  had  been  the  magnanimous  party  in  the 
business.  It  was  necessary  to  decide  what  to  do  with  him. 
Moulton  strongly  urged  a  card  from  me  exonerating  Tilton  (as 
I  could  honestly  do)  from  the  authorship  of  the  particular  scan- 
dals detailed  in  his  article  to  Mr.  Bowen  and  alluded  to  in  the 
covenant. 

"  I  said  I  would  think  it  over,  and  perhaps  write  something. 
This  was  Friday  or  Saturday.  The  covenant  appeared  on  Fri- 
day morning,  and  the  alarm  was  sounded  on  me  immediately  that 
Tilton  would  do  something  dreadful  if  not  restrained.  On  Sun- 
day I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  write  to  Mr.  Moulton  the  follow- 
ing letter,  garbled  extracts  of  which  are  given  in  Mr.  Tilton's 
statement  : 

*  i  Sunday  Morning,  June  1,  1873. 

"  '  My  dear  Frank  :  The  whole  earth  is  tranquil  and  the 
heaven  is  serener,  as  befits  one  who  has  about  finished  this  world- 
life. 

"  '  I  could  do  nothing  on  Saturday.     My  head  was  confused. 

■  -  '  But  a  good  sleep  has  made  it  like  crystal.  I  have  deter- 
mined to  make  no  more  resistance.  Theodore's  temperament  is 
such  that  the  future,  even  if  temporarily  earned,  would  be  abso- 
lutely worthless,  filled  with  abrupt  changes,  and  rendering  me 
liable  at  any  hour  or  day  to  be  obliged  to  stultify  all  the  devices 
by  which  we  saved  ourselves. 

u  '  It  is  only  fair  that  he  should  know  that  the  publication  of 
the  card  which  he  proposes  would  leave  him  far  worse  off  than 


5  l6  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

before.  The  agreement  was  made  after  my  letter  through  you 
was  written.  He  had  had  it  a  year.  He  had  condoned  his 
wife's  fault.  He  had  enjoined  upon  me  with  the  utmost  earnest- 
ness and  solemnity  not  to  betray  his  wife  nor  leave  his  children 
to  a  blight.     I  had  honestly  and  earnestly  joined  in  the  purpose. 

"  '  Then  this  settlement  was  made  and  signed  by  him  [Tri- 
partite]. It  was  not  my  making.  He  revised  his  part  so  that 
it  should  wholly  suit  him,  and  signed  it.  It  stood  unquestioned 
and  unblamed  for  more  than  a  year.  Then  it  7cas  published. 
Nothing  but  that.  That  which  he  did  in  private,  when  made 
public  excited  him  to  fury,  and  he  charges  me  with  making  him 
appear  as  one  graeiously  pardoned  by  me  !  It  was  his  own  de- 
liberate act,  with  which  he  was  perfectly  content  till  others  saw 
it,  and  then  he  charges  a  grievous  wrong  home  on  me  ! 

"  '  My  mind  is  clear  ;  I  am  not  in  haste.  I  shall  write  for  the 
public  a  statement  that  will  bear  the  light  of  the  judgment  day. 
God  will  take  care  of  me  and  mine.  When  I  look  on  earth  it  is 
deep  night.  When  I  look  to  the  heavens  above  I  see  the  morning 
breaking.  But,  oh  !  that  I  could  put  in  golden  letters  my  deep 
sense  of  your  faithful,  earnest,  undying  fidelity,  your  disinte- 
rested friendship  !  Your  noble  wife,  too,  has  been  one  of  God's 
comforters.  It  is  such  as  she  that  renews  a  waning  faith  in 
womanhood. 

" '  Now,  Frank,  I  would  not  have  you  waste  any  more  energy 
on  a  hopeless  task.  With  such  a  man  as  T.  T.  there  is  no  possi- 
ble salvation  for  any  that  depend  on  him.  With  a  strong  nature, 
he  does  not  know  how  to  govern  it.  With  generous  impulses, 
the  undercurrent  that  rules  him  is  self.  With  ardent  affections,' 
he  cannot  love  long  that  which  does  not  repay  but  with  admira- 
tion and  praise.  With  a  strong  theatric  nature,  he  is  constantly 
imposed  upon  with  the  idea  that  a  position,  a  great  stroke — 
a  coup  d'etat — is  the  way  to  success.  Besides  these  he  has  a  hun- 
dred good  things  about  him,  but  these  named  traits  make  him 
absolutely  unreliable.  Therefore  there  is  no  use  in  further  trying. 
I  have  a  strong  feeling  upon  me,  and  it  brings  great  peace  with  it, 
that  I  am  spending  my  last  Sunday  and  preaching  my  last  sermon. 
Dear,  good  God,  I  thank  Thee  !  I  am  indeed  beginning  to  see 
rest  and  triumph.  The  pain  of  life  is  but  a  moment  ;  the  glory 
of  the  everlasting  emancipation  is  wordless,  inconceivable,  full  of 
breaking  glory.      O   my  beloved  Frank  !   I  shall  know  you  then, 


AY  r.  HENR  Y   WARi  F.R.  51  7 

and  for  evei  hold  fellowship  with  you,  and  look  ba<  k  and  smile 
al  the  past.     Your  loving  1 1.  W.  B. 

11  There  arc  intimations  at  the  beginning  and  end  oi  this  letter 
that  I  felt  the  approach  of.  death.  With  regard  to  that  I  merely 
refer  to  my  previous  statement  concerning  my  bodily  symptoms, 
and  add  that  on  this  day  I  felt  symptoms  upon  me.      The  main 

point  is  that  I  was  worried  out  with  the  whole  business,  and 
would  have  been  glad  to  escape  by  death,  of  which  1  long  had 
little  dread.  I  could  see  no  end  but  death  to  the  accumulation 
of  torture,  but  I  resolved  to  stop  short  and  waste  no  more  time  in 
making  matters  worse.  I  felt  that  Mr.  Moulton  had  better  stop, 
too,  and  let  the  whole  thing  come  out.  I  determined,  then,  to 
make  a  full  and  true  statement,  which  I  now  make,  and  to  leave 
the  result  with  God.  Mr.  Tilton  had  repeatedly  urged  me,  as 
stated  in  my  letter,  not  to  betray  his  wife,  and  I  felt  bound  by 
every  sense  of  honor,  in  case  I  should  be  pressed  by  inquiries 
from  my  church  or  family  as  to  the  foundations  of  rumors  which 
might  reach  them,  to  keep  this  promise.  By  this  promise  I  meant 
only  that  I  would  not  betray  the  excessive  affection  which  his 
wife,  as  I  had  been  told,  had  conceived  for  me  and  had  confessed 
to  him.  In  reply  to  this  note,  which  was  calm  and  reserved  rather 
than  gloomy,  Mr.  Moulton  wrote  that  same  day  a  letter  of  three 
and  a  half  sheets  of  copy-paper.     He  began  as  follows  : 


a  i 


My  dear  Friend  :  You  know  I  have  never  been  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  mood  out  of  which  you  have  often  spoken  as  you 
have  written  this  morning.  If  the  truth  must  be  spoken  let  it  be. 
I  know  you  can  stand  if  the  whole  case  was  published  to-morrow, 
and  in  my  opinion  it  shows  a  selfish  faith  in  God.' 

"  Having  proceeded  thus  far,  Mr.  Moulton  seems  to  have  per- 
ceived that  the  tone  of  this  letter  was  rather  likely  to  encourage 
me  in  my  determination  to  publish  the  whole  case  than  otherwise  ; 
and  as  this  was  opposed  to  the  whole  line  of  his  policy,  he  crossed 
out  with  one  dash  of  the  pencil  the  whole  of  this  and  commenced 
anew,  writing  the  following  letter  : 

"  '  Sunday,  June  1,  1873. 
"  '  My  dear  Friend  :  Your  letter  makes  this  first  Sabbath  of 
summer  dark  and  cold  like  a  vault.     You  have  never  inspired  me 


5  I  8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

with  courage  or  hope,  and  if  I  had  listened  to  you  alone  my  hands 
would  have  dropped  helpless  long  ago.  You  don't  begin  to  be  in 
the  danger  to-day  that  has  faced  you  many  times  before.  If  you 
now  look  at  it  square  in  the  eyes  it  will  cower  and  slink  away 
again.  You  know  that  I  have  never  been  in  sympathy  with,  but 
that  I  absolutely  abhor,  the  unmanly  mood  out  of  which  your 
letter  of  this  morning  came.  This  mood  is  a  reservoir  of  mildew. 
You  can  stand  it  if  the  whole  case  were  published  to-morrow.  In 
my  opinion  it  shows  only  a  selfish  faith  in  God  to  go  whining  into 
heaven,  if  you  could,  with  a  truth  that  you  are  not  courageous 
enough,  with  God's  help  and  faith  in  God,  to  try  to  live  on  earth. 
You  know  that  I  love  you,  and  because  I  do  I  shall  try  and  try 
and  try  as  in  the  past.  You  are  mistaken  when  you  say  that 
1  Theodore  charges  you  with  making  him  appear  as  one  graciously 
pardoned  by  you.'  He  said  the  form  in  which  it  was  published 
in  some  of  the  papers  made  it  so  appear,  and  it  was  from  this  that 
he  asked  relief.  I  do  not  think  it  impossible  to  frame  a  letter 
which  will  cover  the  case.  May  God  bless  you  !  I  know  He  will 
protect  you.  Frank.' 

"  In  the  haste  of  writing  Mr.  Moulton  apparently  failed  to  per- 
ceive what  he  had  already  written.  In  the  first  instance,  he  wrote 
on  one  side  of  a  half-sheet 'of  paper,  then,  turning  it  over,  inad- 
vertently used  the  clean  side  of  that  half-sheet  for  the  purpose 
of  the  letter,  which  he  sent  in  the  final  shape  above  given.  But 
it  will  be  seen  that  he  deliberately,  and  twice  in  succession,  re- 
affirmed his  main  statement  that  there  was  nothing  in  the  whole 
case  on  which  I  could  not  safely  stand.  He  treats  my  resolution 
as  born  of  such  morbid  despair,  as  he  had  often  reproached  me 
for,  and  urged  me  strongly  to  maintain  my  faith  in  him.  Tilton 
yielded  to  his  persuasion,  and  graciously  allowed  himself  to  be 
soothed  by  the  publication  of  a  card  exonerating  him  from  the 
authorship  of  the  base  lies  to  which  the  tripartite  covenant  re- 
ferred. So  once  more,  and  this  time  against  my  calmer  judg- 
ment, I  patched  up  a  hollow  peace  with  him. 

"  That  I  have  grievously  erred  in  judgment  with  this  perplexed 
case  no  one  is  more  conscious  than  I  am.  I  chose  the  wrong  path, 
and  accepted  a  disastrous  guidance  in  the  beginning,  and  have 
indeed  travelled  on  a  '  rough  and  ragged  edge '  in  my  prolonged 
efforts  to  suppress  this  scandal,  which  has  at  last  spread  so  much 


REV.  HENRY  WARP   Kl  !  CHER.  519 

ilation  through  the  land.  But  I  cannot  admit  that  I  erred  in 
ring  to  keep  these  matters  out  of  sight  En  this  respe<  t  I  ap- 
peal to  all  Christian  men,  to  judge  whether  almost  any  personal 
sacrifice  ought  not  to  have  been  made,  rather  than  to  sutler 
the  morals  of  an  entire  community,  and  especially  of  the  young, 
to  be  corrupted  by  the  filthy  details  of  scandalous  falsehoods, 
daily  iterated  and  amplified,  for  the  gratification  of  impure  curi- 
osity, and  the  demoralization  of  every  child  that  is  old  enough  to 
read. 

"  The  full  truth  of  this  history  requires  that  one  more  fact 
should  be  told,  especially  as  Mr.  Tilton  has  invited  it.  Money 
has  been  obtained  from  me  in  the  course  of  these  affairs,  in  con- 
siderable sums  ;  but  I  did  not,  at  first,  look  upon  the  suggestions 
that  I  should  contribute  to  Mr.  Tilton's  pecuniary  wants,  as  savor- 
ing of  blackmail.  Afterward  I  contributed  at  one  time  $5,000, 
which  I  came  to  do  in  this  way  :  There  was  a  discussion  about 
the  Golden  Age.  Moulton  was  constantly  advancing  money,  as 
he  said  to  me,  to  help  Tilton.  The  paper  was  needy.  One  even- 
ing I  was  at  his  house.  We  were  alone  together  in  the  back  par- 
lor, and  Moulton  took  out  of  his  pocket  a  letter  from .     It 

was  read  to  me,  in  which  the  writer  mentioned  contributions 
which  he  had  made  to  Theodore.  I  understood  from  him,  that 
the  writer  of  this  letter  had  given  him  some  thousands  of  dollars 
down  in  cash,  and  then  taking  out  two  time-checks  or  drafts, 
which,  as  I  recollected,  were  on  bluish  paper — although  I  am  not 
sure  of  that.  There  were  two  checks,  each  of  them  amounting  to 
one  or  two  thousand  dollars  more,  and  I  should  think  it  amounted 
in  all  to  about  six  thousand  dollars,  although  my  memory  about 
quantities  and  figures  is  to  be  taken  with  great  allowance  ;  but  it 
produced  the  impression  in  me,  that  the  writer  had  given  him 
one  or  two  thousand  dollars  in  cash  down,  and,  as  the  writer  ex- 
plained in  the  letter,  it  was  not  convenient  to  give  the  balance  in 
money  at  that  time,  but  had  drawn  time-drafts,  which  would  be 
just  as  useful  as  money  ;  and  Moulton  slapped  the  table  and 
said,  'Thatis  what  I  call  friendship,'  and  I  was  stupid,  and  said, 
'Yes,  it  was.'  Afterward,  when  I  got  home,  I  got  to  thinking 
about  it.  ■  Why,'  said  I,  '  what  a  fool !  I  never  dreamed  what  he 
meant.'  Then  I  went  to  him  and  said  to  him,  '  I  am  willing  to 
make  a  contribution  and  put  the  thing  beyond  a  controversy.' 
Well,  he  said  something  like  this:  'That  he  thought  it  would  be 


520  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

the  best  investment  that  ever  I  made  in  my  life.'  I  then  went 
to  the  savings-bank  and  put  a  mortgage  of  five  thousand  dollars 
on  my  house.  I  took  a  check  which  was  given  me  by  the  bank's 
lawyer,  and  put  it  into  the  bank,  and,  on  Moulton's  suggestion 
that  it  would  be  better  than  to  have  a  check  drawn  to  his  order, 
I  drew  the  money  in  five-hundred-dollar  or  one-thousand-dollar 
bills — I  have  forgotten  which,  but  I  know  that  they  were  large, 
for  I  carried  the  roll  in  my  hand — and  these  I  gave  into  his 
hands.  After  the  money  had  been  given  to  Mr.  Moulton,  I 
felt  very  much  dissatisfied.  Finally  a  square  demand  and  a 
threat  was  made  to  one  of  my  confidential  friends,  that  if  $5,000 
more  were  not  paid,  Tilton's  charges  would  be  laid  before  the 
public.  This  I  saw  at  once  was  blackmail  in  its  boldest  form, 
and  I  never  paid  a  cent  of  it,  but  challenged  and  requested  the 
fullest  exposure." 

As  we  have  seen,  the  "  Woodhull  scandal,"  at  the  secret  insti- 
gation of  Tilton,  was  published  late  in  October,  1872. 

On  the  2d  of  November  Dr.  Storrs  wrote  to  Mr.  Beecher  : 

"My  dear  Beecher:  I  hear  from  different  quarters  that 
scandalous  and  annoying  publications  have  been  made  about  you. 

"  If  they  are  such  as  to  trouble  you,  and  if  I  can  at  any  time 
be  of  any  service  to  you,  yo,u  know,  of  course,  that  you  have  only 
to  intimate  the  wish  to  get  all  the  help  that  I  can  give,  on  any 
occasion  or  in  any  way.     Ever  affectionately  yours, 

"R.  S.  Storrs,  Jr." 

At  this  time  Mr.  Beecher  felt  that  he  was  bound  in  honor  to 
be  silent.  It  was  not  until  the  spring  of  1873,  when  realizing 
that  Tilton  was  industriously,  in  person,  and  through  his  friends, 
whispering  tales  against  his  character,  and  stimulating  the  pub- 
lication of  the  scandal,  that  he  felt  himself  relieved  from  this  ob- 
ligation. Then  he  published  a  card  in  the  Brooklyn  Eagle,  em- 
phatically branding  the  stories  as  false  and  challenging  the  pro- 
duction of  any  evidence  against  him. 

But,  at  the  time  of  Dr.  Storrs's  letter,  to  say  a  little  and  not 
say  all,  would  be  worse  than  silence,  while  to  confide  the  whole 
matter  to  Dr.  Storrs  would  necessitate  repeating  the  statements 
against  Tilton  and  Bowen,  which  would  be  a  breach  of  the  tri- 
partite agreement  (a  pledge  which  he  alone  had  observed).  He 
did  not  call  on  the  doctor  or  answer  the  letter.     He  kept  silent. 


.  .  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  521 

A  short  time  later  (December  16)  Tilton  called  upon  Dr.  Storrs 

with  a  friend,  and  read  to  him  his  so-called  "  true  statement," 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  he  had  drawn  up  to  counteract,  as  he 
pretended,  the  Woodhull  scandal.  In  this  he  asserted  most 
positively  his  wile's  innocence,  and  charged  Mr.  Beecher  with 
"improper  proposals." 

The  effect  of  this  interview  played  an  important  part  in  the 
subsequent  events.  We  are  not  aware  that  Dr.  Storrs  ever  went 
directly  to  his  old  friend  and  laid  what  he  had  heard  before  him, 
or  indignantly  denied  the  charges  as  a  slander  ;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, almost  in  the  face  of  his  letter  of  November  2d  proffering 
aid,  he  lent  his  ear  to  tales,  carried  by  such  a  man  as  he  knew 
Tilton  to  be  ;  and  we  very  soon  find  him  acting,  in  conjunction 
with  Dr.  Budington,  as  the  recognized  champion  and  adviser  of 
Mr.  Beecher's  enemies  ;  his  hostility,  later  on,  ripening  into  the 
most  intense  personal  bitterness,  the  fierce  heat  of  which  seemed 
to  grow  stronger  rather  than  weaker  as  years  rolled  by,  and  did 
not  seem  to  abate  even  when  the  cold  hand  of  death  fell  upon  his 
former  friend.  We  have  searched  in  vain  for  any  reasonable  justi- 
fication for  this  sudden  change,  from  the  most  glowing  friendship, 
to  the  most  scorching  enmity.  We  feel  unwilling  to  believe  the 
commonly  accepted  theory  of  jealousy,  while  the  doctor's  own 
suggestion  that  his  feelings  were  hurt  by  Mr.  Beecher's  neglect 
of  his  friendly  overtures,  seems  belittling  to  a  man  so  gifted  and 
refined,  and  one  cast  in  so  large  an  intellectual  mould. 

We  say  that  injured  feelings  were  the  reason  suggested  ;  for 
when,  about  a  year  later,  he  appeared  in  open  hostility  to  Mr. 
Beecher,  and  wondering  friends  inquired  the  reason,  he  stated  in 
effect  that  he  felt  hurt  by  Mr.  Beecher's  neglect  to  even  answer 
his  friendly  letter  (of  November  2,  1872),  though  admitting  that 
it  did  not  necessarily  call  for  an  answer.  Later,  after  the  publi- 
cation of  the  scandal,  Mr.  Beecher  explained  to  both  Drs.  Storrs 
and  Budington  the  reason  for  his  silence,  which  explanation 
they  then  professed  to  accept  as  satisfactory.*  On  November  7, 
1873,  a  friend  of  both  Dr.  Storrs  and  Mr.  Beecher  called  on  the 
doctor,  to  whom  he  stated  that  while  Mr.  Beecher's  enemies  had 

*  This  occurred  early  in  1874,  when  Drs.  Storrs  and  Budington  were 
in  conference  with  Mr.  Beecher,  seeking  for  some  way  of  avoiding  the  com- 
plications between  the  three  churches,  which  ultimately  led  to  the  Advisory 
Council  of  1874.     During  this  period  they  addressed   Mr.  Beecher  in  their 


52  2  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

come  to  him,  and  he  had  not  felt  it  right  to  refuse  to  hear  what 
any  one  had  to  say,  Mr.  Beecher's  friends  had  not  come  near  him; 
that  he  himself  (Dr.  S.)  had  never  once  commenced  a  conversation 
with  any  one  on  this  subject,  and  that  he  was  sorry  that  he  could 
not  see  this  affair  as  Mr.  Beecher's  friends  did,  and  wished  he 
could  believe  that  he  was  suffering  for  the  sins  of  others. 

From  his  own  statement,  then,  it  would  seem  that  he  gave 
his  ear  to  the  tale-bearer,  listening  to  all  that  was  brought  to  him 
by  Mr.  Beecher's  enemies,  but  he  himself  never  once  sought  for 
information  from  Mr.  Beecher's  friends. 

About  the  first  of  June,  1873,  Mr.  Beecher  had  become  satis- 
fied that  there  was  no  longer  any  use  of  trying  to  help  Mr.  Tilton, 
his  eyes  being  at  last  opened  to  the  fact,  that  Tilton  had  been 
deceiving  him  right  along,  and  little  by  little  had  been  dealing 
scandalous  stories  out  to  the  public.  He  declared  that  he  would 
stand  it  no  longer,  and  when  it  was  stated  that  Mrs.  Woodhull 
had  implicating  letters  from  him  he  published  the  following  card 
in  the  Brooklyn  Eagle : 

"I  have  just  returned  to  the  city  to  learn  that  application  has 
been  made  to  Mrs.  Victoria  Woodhull  for  letters  of  mine  sup- 
posed to  contain  information  respecting  certain  infamous  stories 
against  me.  I  have  no  objection  to  have  the  Eagle  state,  in  any 
way  it  deems  fit,  that  Mrs.  Woodhull,  or  any  other  person  or 
persons  who  may  have  letters  of  mine  in  their  possession,  have 
my  cordial  consent  to  publish  them.  In  this  connection,  and  at 
this  time,  I  will  only  add  that  the  stories  and  rumors  which  for 
some  time  past  have  been  circulated  about  me  are  grossly  untrue, 
and  I  stamp  them,  in  general  and  in  particular,  as  utterly  false. 
"Respectfully,  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

"  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  June  30,  1873." 
At  this  time  the  stories  afloat  were  vague  and  general. 

letters  as  "  My  dear  Brother,"  joined  with  him  in  prayer  asking  for  di- 
vine guidance  out  of  the  existing  complications.  Neither  of  them  intimated 
any  belief  in  the  scandalous  stories  then  afloat,  but  put  the  whole  burden  of 
their  complaint  on  the  ground  of  discourtesy,  and.  when  Mr.  Beecher  ex- 
plained his  reasons  for  silence  and  the  pledge  he  felt  himself  to  be  under, 
expressed  themselves  as  fully  satisfied,  and  as  late  as  1876  their  clerical 
friends  understood  that  their  hostility  grew  out  of  feelings  hurt  by  fancied 
neglect,  and  not  from  a  belief  in  any  guilt  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Beecher.  See 
Dr.  Bacon's  letterof  February  27,  1S76,  page  559. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

After- Effects — Charges  against  Tilton — Advisory  Council — Investigating 
Committee  called  by  Mr.  Beecber — Its  Report — Dropping  Mr.  Moul- 
ton — Council  called  by  Plymouth  Church. 

IN  October,  1873,  formal  charges  were  preferred  against  Theo- 
dore Tilton,  by  Plymouth  Church,  for  slandering  his  pastor. 
He  replied  to  the  clerk  of  the  church,  that  he  was  not, 
and  for  four  or  more  years  had  not  been,  a  member  of  the  church. 
The  church  then  voted  to  drop  his  name  from  the  rolls,  agreeably 
to  the  provisions  of  its  manual,  relating  to  such  cases. 

Most  of  the  sister  churches  were  content  that  Plymouth 
Church  should  attend  to  her  own  affairs  in  her  own  way.  Not 
so  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims  (Dr.  Storrs)  and  the  Clinton 
Avenue  Church  (Dr.  Budington). 

They  felt  themselves  outraged  by  this  action  of  Plymouth,  in 
omitting  to  try  the  charges  preferred  against  Tilton. 

Special  meetings  were  called  in  these  churches,  and  a  com- 
mittee of  seven  appointed  in  each,  to  formulate,  and  send,  a  letter 
of  remonstrance  to  Plymouth  Church.  After  a  considerable,  but 
ineffectual  correspondence  between  the  churches,  and  consulta- 
tions between  the  pastors,  looking  to  an  amicable  adjustment  of 
their  differences,  the  two  dissatisfied  churches  called  the  "  Advi- 
sory Council"  of  1874,  to  advise  them  as  to  their  course  toward 
Plymouth  Church. 

While  the  correspondence  and  conferences  referred  to  were 
going  on,  a  very  serious  difficulty  broke  out  in  Dr.  Budington's 
church,  which  at  one  time  threatened  to  split  it  asunder.  A 
large  number  of  influential  members  denounced  the  manner  of 
calling  the  special  meeting,  at  which  the  committee  of  seven  was 
appointed,  and  by  which  the  church  was  committed  to  its  posi- 
tion of  hostility  to  Plymouth,  as  being  irregular,  and  in   viola- 

523 


524  REV.  HEXRY  WARD   BEECH ER. 

tion  of  their  own  rules.*  This  led  to  a  number  of  stormy  meet- 
ings, in  which  great  bitterness  was  felt  and  expressed  on  both 
sides. 

Mr.  Beecher,  instead  of  fomenting  this  difficulty — which  might 
easily  have  been  made  the  means  of  turning  the  tables  upon  his 
clerical  critics,  and  forcing  them  from  the  attack  to  the  defensive — 
or  even  sitting  still,  to  await  any  advantages  that  might  accrue  to 
him  or  his  church,  came  at  once  to  Dr.  Budington's  relief.  On 
January  12th  he  wrote  to  a  prominent  member  of  the  latter's 
church,  urging  in  the  strongest  terms  that  both  the  doctor,  and 
the  protestants,  should  seek  for  some  intermediate  ground  on 
which  they  could  meet  in  peace,  and  that  the  best  men  of  the 
church  should  join  to  avert  the  catastrophe  which  seemed  im- 
pending.    He  also  wrote  an  earnest  letter  to  Dr.  Storrs,  that  he 

*  They  presented  a  formal  protest,  which,  after  rehearsing  the  action 
of  their  pastor  in  calling  the  special  meeting,  concluded: 

"  WE   PROTEST, 

"  Because  the  committee  was  not  appointed  by  the  church; 

il  Because  its  action  has  never  been  approved  by  the  church; 

"  Because  the  substance  and  form  of  the  documents  it  has  prepared 
have  not  been  authorized  even'  by  the  instructions  given  at  irregular  and 
invalid  gatherings,  until  it  was  too  late  to  offer  criticism  or  objection; 

"  Because  these  documents,  neither  authorized  in  advance  nor  subse- 
quently approved  by  this  church,  have  apparently  committed  it  to  an  atti- 
tude, and  pledged  it  in  advance  to  acts  of  antagonism  and  censure  towards 
a  near  and  beloved  sister  church,  never  contemplated  or  desired,  still  less 
resolved  upon,  by  this  church; 

"  Because  the  question  of  discipline,  originally  raised  as  a  matter  of 
controversy,  is  one  upon  which  the  record  of  this  church  is  such  as  to  make 
it  especially  necessary  that  we  should  proceed  with  great  circumspection 
when  seeking  to  advise  or  censure  other  churches — it  being  oar  own  practice 
to  drop  members  for  absence,  without  censure,  at  every  annual  meeting  (Manual, 
sec.  6,  art.  2),  and  the  practice  having  extended  in  the  past,  as  we  are  in- 
formed, to  members  at  the  time  currently  reported  to  be  under  grave  charges. 

"  The  whole  management  of  this  case  has  misrepresented  the  spirit  of 
this  church,  defeated  its  just  right  of  self-government,  suppressed  the 
honest  and  free  expression  of  individual  opinion,  and  tended  to  subject 
the  church  to  the  control  of  a  few  members,  without  regard  to  the  convic- 
tions of  the  remainder. 

"  We,  therefore,  denounce  the  action  of  the  committee  as  a  dangerous 
attack  upon  Christian  liberty  and  Congregational  polity;  and  we  declare  it 
to  be,  and  to  have  been  from  the  beginning,  null  and  void." 


Mr.  Beecher  and  his  Sister,   Mrs.   H.    E.  B.  Stowe. 


525 


526  BIOGRAPH Y  OF 

should   join   with  him  in   seeking  the  peace  and  unity   of    Dr. 
Budington's  church. 

At  the  same  time  he  wrote  a  long  letter  directly  to  Dr. 
Budington,  in  which,  among  other  things,  he  said: 

"...  I  pray  you  not  to  think  that  I  am  intruding  on  your 
affairs,  or  that  I  am  indelicate  in  offering  to  do  anything  I  can. 
.  .  .  Now  let  me  assure  you,  my  dear  friend,  that  my  first  and 
last  desire,  as  God  sees  my  heart,  is  to  see  your  church  har- 
monious, and  to  see  you  more  honored  and  firmly  seated  in  the 
affection  of  your  people  than  ever.  I  suppose  I  do  not  exag- 
gerate in  saying  that  there  is  a  large  number  of  your  people  who 
are  aggrieved,  and  that  they,  like  yourself,  stand  upon  a  sincere 
conscience.  Ought  there  not  to  be  a  way  among  those  who  have 
the  humility  of  Christ  to  conciliate  and  to  reconcile  difficulties  ? 
And,  my  dear  brother,  ought  not  you,  as  teacher  and  leader  of 
this  flock,  to  be  a  leader  in  self-ab?iegation,  in  tender  regard  for 
those  who  differ  with  you,  in  overcoming  evil  with  good,  in  sub- 
duing opposition  by  love  ? 

"  Pardon  me,  I  pray  you.  I  long  to  see  your  power  aug- 
mented and  your  name,  now  honorable,  still  more  honored.  .  .  . 
I  count  the  integrity  of  your  church  and  your  continued  use- 
fulness in  it  as  a  blessing,  which  cannot  be  lost  without  great 
blame  somewhere,  and  if  I  can  help  you  I  will  do  it  with  all  the 
earnestness  of  my  nature  !  I  long  for  restored  peace  in  our 
churches. 

"  The  peace  ,which  love  brings  is  full  of  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit.  I  think  much  of  you  ;  I  pray  for  you  in  the  watches  of 
the  night  !  If  I  could  help  you  effectually  I  should  count  it 
worth  all  that  I  have  suffered  !  I  pray  you  do  not  put  me  from 
you,  but  let  my  heart  be  strengthened  and  comforted  by  the 
reciprocal  love  of  yours. 

"  I  am,  dear  brother, 

"  Truly  yours, 

"  Henry  Ward  Beecher." 

He  also  advised  such  of  his  friends  in  Dr.  Budington's 
church  as  he  met,  to  the  same  effect.  Ultimately  the  storm  blew 
over,  though  a  feeling  of  soreness  remained  in  the  Clinton  Avenue 
Church  for  a  long  time. 

On  March  24,  1874,  the  Advisory  Council  convened  in  Dr. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER.  527 

Budington's  church.  Plymouth  Church  had  been  invited  to  be 
present  at  the  council  by  pastor  and  committee,  "to  correct  any 
statement  of  fact  that  may  seem  to  them  erroneous,  and  to  fur- 
nish any  further  and  special  information  the  council  may  re- 
quest." 

To  this  Plymouth   Church   replied  "that  the  calling  of  this 

arte  council  to  consider  the  affairs  of  a  church  which  lias 
not  declined  a  mutual  council  is  the  consummation  of  a  course 
oi  proceedings  against  which,  as  irregular  and  unwarrantable,  we 
have  felt  bound  to  protest  from  the  beginning.  That  we  recog- 
nize in  the  statement,  the  letter-missive,  and  the  invitation  as  in 
former  communications  addressed  to  us,  a  persistent  attempt  to 
put  this  church  under  accusation  and  on  trial,  and  that  we  can- 
not accept  the  invitation  of  these  two  churches  to  appear  before  a 
council  in  the  calling  of  which  we  have  been  permitted  to  take 
no  part,  in  which  we  have  not  been  offered  the  right  of  equal 
members,  and  in  which  we  are  not  even  allowed  to  be  ordinary 
defendants,  but  only  to  be  witnesses  to  correct  errors  and  answer 
questions  propounded  to  us." 

On  the  28th  the  council  made  its  "  deliverance,"  but  so  like 
a  Delphic  oracle  that  neither  its  friends  nor  its  foes  seemed  able 
to  agree  upon  its  exact  meaning. 

As  nearly  as  we  can  make  out  from  the  "deliverance"  itself, 
and  the  comments  made  upon  it  by  members  of  the  council,  it 
was  to  the  effect  :  1.  That  Plymouth  Church  was  not  en  regie  in 
its  disposal  of  Mr.  Tilton's  case  ;  2.  That  the  two  sister-churches 
were  unwise  and  hasty  ;  and  3.  That  Plymouth  Church  should 
not  be  read  out  of  fellowship. 

Very  shortly  after  the  adjournment  of  the  council  a  series  of 
letters  were  written  by  Dr.  Bacon,  of  New  Haven,  and  published 
in  the  Independent,  which  reflected  very  strongly  upon  Mr.  Tilton, 
who,  in  the  latter  part  of  June,  published  a  statement  in  which  he 
made  an  open  charge  ;  in  this  he  declared  that  Mr.  Beecher  had 
committed  an  offence  against  him  which  he  forbore  to  name. 
This  was  the  first  public  charge  made  by  Mr.  Tilton.  Up  to  this 
time  the  stories  afloat  were  vague  and  indefinite,  impossible  of 
tracing  to  their  source. 

Mr.  Beecher  was  absent  from  the  city  when  Tilton's  statement 
was  published,  but,  returning  the  next  day,  at  once  sent  the  fol- 
lowing to  the  gentlemen  named  therein  : 


528  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  Brooklyn,  June  27,  1874. 

"  Gentlemen  :  In  the  present  state  of  public  feeling  I  owe  it 
to  my  friends,  and  to  the  church  and  the  society  over  which  I 
am  pastor,  to  have  some  proper  investigation  made  of  the  rumors, 
insinuations,  or  charges  made  respecting  my  conduct,  as  compro- 
mised by  the  late  publications  made  by  Mr.  Tilton.  I  have 
thought  that  both  the  church  and  the  society  should  be  repre- 
sented, and  I  take  the  liberty  of  asking  the  following  gentlemen 
to  serve  in  this  inquiry,  and  to  do  that  which  truth  and  justice 
may  require.  I  beg  that  each  of  the  gentlemen  named  will  con- 
sider this  as  if  it  had  been  separately  and  personally  sent  to 
him,  namely  : 

"  From  the  Church — Henry  W.  Sage,  Augustus  Storrs,  Henry 
M.  Cleveland. 

"  From  the  Society — Horace  B.  Claflin,  John  Winslow,  $.  V. 
White. 

"  I  desire  you,  when  you  have  satisfied  yourselves  by  an  im- 
partial and  thorough  examination  of  all  sources  of  evidence,  to 
communicate  to  the  Examining  Committee,  or  to  the  church, 
such  action    as  then  may  seem   to  you  right  and  wise. 

"  Henry  Ward  Beecher." 

These  names  were  selected  after  conference  with  the  Examin- 
ing Committee  of  the  church,  most  of  them  being  suggested  by 
that  committee.  Two  of  the  gentlemen  named  were  members  of 
the  Examining  Committee,  which  immediately  ratified  the  se- 
lection, and  by  formal  vote  made  them  a  sub-committee  of  its 
own. 

After  the  committee  had  been  organized  and  begun  its  exam- 
ination  Mr.  Beecher  wrote  and  sent  the  following  letter  : 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  Committee  :  In  the  note  requesting 
your  appointment  I  asked  that  you  should  make  full  investigation 
of  all  sources  of  information.  You  are  witnesses  that  I  have  in  no 
way  influenced  or  interfered  with  your  proceedings  or  duties.  I 
have  wished  the  investigation  to  be  so  searching  that  nothing 
could  unsettle  its  results.  I  have  nothing  to  gain  by  any  policy 
of  suppression  or  compromise. 

"  For  four  years  I  have  borne  and  suffered  enough,  and  I  will 
not  go  a  step  further.     I  will  be  free.     I  will  not  walk  under  a 


RE  I '.   HE XR  V   WARD  /»' E E CHI: R.  529 

rod  or  yoke.  It"  any  man  would  do  me  a  favor,  let  him  tell  all 
he  knows  now.  It  is  not  mine  to  lay  down  the  law  of  honor  in 
regard  to  the  use  of  other  persons'  confidential  communications; 
but,  in  so  far  as  my  own  writings  are  concerned,  there  is  not  a 
letter  nor  document  which  I  am  afraid  to  have  exhibited,  and  I 
authorize  any  and  call  upon  any  living  person  to  produce  and 
print  forthwith,  whatever  writings  they  have  from  any  source 
whatsoever. 

"It  is  time,  for  the  sake  of  decency  and  of  public  morals, 
that  this  matter  should  be  brought  to  an  end.  It  is  an  open  pool 
of  corruption,  exhaling  deadly  vapors. 

"  For  six  weeks  the  nation  has  risen  up  and  sat  down  upon 
scandal.  Not  a  great  war  nor  a  revolution  could  more  have  filled 
the  newspapers  than  this  question  of  domestic  trouble  ;  magni- 
fied a  thousandfold,  and.  like  a  sore  spot  in  the  human  body, 
drawing  to  itself  every  morbid  humor  in  the  blood.  Whoever  is 
buried  with  it,  it  is  time  that  this  abomination  be  buried  below 
all  touch  or  power  of  resurrection." 

The  committee  commenced  their  sittings  on  the  28th  of  June 
and  did  not  complete  tl  :ir  report  until  the  28th  day  of  August. 
The  committee  requested  the  attendance  of  thirty-six  witnesses, 
and  endeavored  to  obtain  such  facts  as  were  relevant  to  the  in- 
quiry from  all  attainable  sources  of  evidence.  In  their  report 
they  stated  that  "  most  of  the  persons  named  have  attended  as 
requested  before  the  committee.  One  notable  exception  is  Francis 
B.  Carpenter.  Francis  D.  Moulton  promised  to  testify  fully,  but 
has  failed  to  do  so.  He  has  submitted  three  short  statements  in 
writing  to  the  committee,  consisting  chiefly  of  reasons  why  he  de- 
clined to  testify,  and  of  promises  to  testify  at  the  call  of  the  com- 
mittee. The  committee  have  called  him  three  times,  with  the  re- 
sults stated.  In  addition  to  the  evidence  of  the  persons  named, 
we  have  examined  a  considerable  number  of  letters  and  other 
documentary  evidence  which,  in  some  way,  were  supposed  to  re- 
late to  the  subject-matter  of  inquiry.  We  have  held  in  the  prose- 
cution of  our  investigations  twenty-eight  sessions." 

Mr.  Tilton  appeared  and  presented  a  partial  statement,  finally 
refusing  any  further  examination.  Mrs.  Tilton  was  examined, 
and  most  emphatically  and  solemnly  denied  the  charge  which  her 
husband  had  made.  Mr.  Beecher  was  also  examined  ;  the  sub- 
stance of  his  statement  we  have  already  presented.     While   the 


530  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

committee  was  in  session,  and  on  the  21st  of  July,  Mr.  Tilton 
published  a  statement  in  the  Brooklyn  Argus,  in  which  for  the 
first  time  he  made  the  specific  charge  of  adultery.  Up  to  this 
time,  in  his  private  statements,  he  had  charged  "  improper  pro- 
posals "  ;  this  statement  he  had  made  repeatedly,  in  confidence,  to 
many  different  persons,  and  had  incorporated  in  his  so-called 
"true  statement,"  which  he  had  shown  to  several  ;  in  this,  in  the 
most  positive  manner,  he  had  denied  that  his  wife  had  been 
guilty.  The  reason  for  this  change  of  position  will  be  made 
apparent   later. 

The  committee  in  their  report,  after  exhaustively  reviewing 
the  evidence,  concluded  : 

"  We  find  from  the  evidence  that  Mr.  Beecher  has  never  com- 
mitted any  unchaste  or  improper  act  with  Mrs.  Tilton,  nor  made 
any  unchaste  or  improper  remark,  proffer,  or  solicitation  to  her  of 
any  kind  or  description  whatever. 

"  If  this  were  a  question  of  errors  of  judgment  on  the  part  of 
Mr.  Beecher,  it  would  be  easy  to  criticise,  especially  in  the  light 
of  recent  events.  In  such  criticism,  even  to  the  extent  of  regrets 
and  censure,  we  are  sure  no  man  would  join  more  sincerely  than 
Mr.  Beecher  himself. 

"  We  find  nothing  whatever  in  the  evidence  that  should  impair 
the  perfect  confidence  of  Plymouth  Church  or  the  world  in  the 
Christian  character  and  integrity  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

"  And  now  let  the  peace  of  God,  that  passeth  all  understand- 
ing, rest  and  abide  with  Plymouth  Church  and  her  beloved  and 
eminent  pastor,  so  much  and  so  long  afflicted. 


Committee  of 
Investigation. 


"  Henry  W.  Sage, 
"Augustus  Storrs, 
"  Henry  M.  Cleveland, 
"  Horace  B.  Claflin, 
"  John  Winslow, 
"  S.  V.  White, 

"  Dated  Brooklyn,  Aug.  27,  1874." 

This  report,  with  its  conclusions,  was  presented  to  the 
church  on  Friday  evening,  the  28th,  and  accepted  with  great 
enthusiasm  by  a  unanimous  vote,  the  immense  throng,  nearly  three 
thousand  in  number,  rising  en  masse  when  the  vote  was  put. 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  531 

The  terrible  struggle  in  silence  had  passed,  and  to  Mr.  W 
the  relict'  at  feeling  that  he  could  speak  out  in  his  own  def< 

was  unutterable.      He  spoke  of  it  often  and  strongly  : 

M  And  what  was  most  singular  was  that  when  the  church 
came  into  the  eclipse  1  came  out  of  it.  I  had  had  my  time  when 
I  was  dumb  and  opened  not  my  mouth,  and  was  led  as  a  sheep 
to  the  slaughter;  but  when  the  trouble  came  upon  the  whole 
church,  with  its  intense  suffering,  there  came  to  me  emancipa- 
tion. God  was  pleased  to  upfcfold  me  as  I  walked  alone  and  in 
silence,  and  afterwards  He  gave  me  such  relief  that  during  the 
two  or  three  years  in  which  the  church  was  shrouded  in  great 
anxiety  I  was  filled  with  trust  and  courage,  and  was  enabled  all 
the  time  to  lift  up  the  church  and  carry  it  hopefully  along  from 
Sabbath  to  Sabbath." 

"...  I  have  rolled  off  my  burden  ;  I  am  in  the  hands  of 
God  ;  I  am  certain  of  salvation  and  safety  in  God,  and  I  do  not 
give  it  any  lower  application  ;  but  I  am  hidden  in  His  pavilion,  I 
am  surrounded  by  His  peace,  and  I  have  got  back,  through 
storms  and  troubles,  to  the  simplicity  and  the  quiet  enjoyment 
which  belonged  to  me  many  years  ago.  My  thought,  my  feeling, 
and  my  soul  run  very  quiet  ;  and  it  is  the  result,  not  so  much  of 
any  visible  and  external  thing,  as  that  I  am  sure  I  am  surrounded 
by  the  hand  of  my  God.  I  live  in  Him,  and  He  lives  in  me,  and 
He  gives  me  the  promised  peace." 

The  publication  of  Mr.  Beecher's  statement  (a  short  time  prior 
to  the  committee's  report)  was  as  great  a  relief  to  Mr.  Beecher's 
friends,  as  the  opportunity  to  make  it  had  been  to  him.  Many 
who  trusted  him  implicitly,  believing  that  there  was  some  reason 
for  his  silence,  could  not  but  wonder  what  it  might  be  ;  and  when 
they  learned  that  he  had  suffered  reproach  in  silence,  rather 
than  open  the  doors  to  the  vile  flood  which  would  deluge  the 
land,  bringing  sorrow  to  hundreds  of  homes,  unwilling  to  violate 
the  pledge  he  had  given  to  Tilton  and  Bowen  until  the  former's 
treachery  at  last  compelled  him,  their  loving  confidence  and  sym- 
pathy were  only  intensified. 

The  clouds  of  mystery  had  been  cleared  away,  and  all  was 
plain  as  noonday.  We  have  room  to  quote  but  one  of  the  many 
letters  received,  as  an  apt  expression  of  the  feelings  produced 
by  the  statement.  We  give  entire  the  letter  of  President  Porter, 
of  Yale  College  : 


532  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  Lake  Placid,  New  York. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Beecher  :  I  have  been  on  the  point  of  writ- 
ing to  you  for  the  last  few  weeks,  from  time  to  time,  to  express 
my  unabated  confidence  and  my  increasing  sympathy  for  you  in 
your  great  trial  ;  but  I  have  refrained,  knowing  that  you  were 
too  much  occupied  to  listen  to  anything  except  necessary  advice. 
But  I  have  just  read  your  statement,  and  am  more  than  satisfied 
with  it.  It  would  be  a  slight  thing  to  say  that  I  believe  it  to  be 
true.  I  do  not  read  for  myself,  But  for  the  world  at  large.  I 
believe  it  will  be  accepted  as  true  by  all,  except  sons  of  Belial, 
and  those  who  have  been  committed  against  you  in  decided  par- 
tisanship. More  than  this  :  I  think  that  it  will  secure  you  the 
warm  sympathy  of  multitudes  whom  you  have  not  reached,  or 
only  slightly,  before  this,  and  that  you  will  be  held  in  higher 
honor  than  ever  for  integrity  of  purpose  and  generosity  of  self- 
sacrifice,  and  that  your  example,  while  it  will  teach  discretion 
from  your  weakness,  will  enforce,  in  a  manifestly  more  impressive 
way,  the  dignity  and  strength  of  a  willingness  to  suffer  in  silence, 
that  others  might  be  spared.  I  believe  the  Lord  will  make 
your  latter  days  better  than  in  the  beginning  (as  is  said  of  Job), 
and  if  you  are  willing  to  stop  doing  twice  as  much  as  any  mortal 
should  attempt,  your  pulpit  and  pastoral  influence  will  be  more 
blessed  than  ever. 

"  Most  affectionately,  your  friend, 

"Xoah  Porter." 

Early  in  the  sessions  of  the  committee  Mr.  Tilton  withdrew 
— as  we  understand,  not  liking  to  be  followed  up  on  cross-exami- 
nation— threatening  to  institute  legal  proceedings  against  Mr. 
Beecher,  and,  as  preliminary  thereto,  published  his  statement 
of  July  21. 

We  have  alluded  to  the  fact  that  at  this  stage  Tilton  wholly 
changed  the  nature  of  his  charge.  In  all  the  stories  which  he 
and  Moulton  had  told  to  various  friends  at  different  times,  and 
in  the  statements  which  he  had  prepared  and  shown  in  confi- 
dence, the  charge  was  always  "improper  proposals"  and  an  em- 
phatic assertion  of  his  wife's  innocence.  Now  he  proposed  to 
stake  all  on  one  cast  of  the  dice.  He  would  bring  a  suit,  and,  if 
he  could  get  no  more  help,  he  wo'uld  at  least,  so  his  vanity  and 
Mr.  Beecher's  evil-wishers  assured  him,  crush  Mr.  Beecher.     In- 


REV,  HENRY  WARD   BEECHER.  533 

deed,    he  and    Moulton  wore   cornered,  and  must    resort    to  some 

desperate  measures  or  surrender  themselves  to  everlasting  in- 
famy. Had  they  been  left  to  themselves,  it  is  perhaps  doubtful  if 
they  would  have  attempted  so  desperate  a  remedy,  even  in  self- 
defence;  but  there  were  those,  not  a  few,  who  egged  them  on, 
contributing  to  the  expense  of  the  suit,  glad  to  keep  up  the  attack 
on  Mr.  Beecher,  provided  only  their  names  were  not  brought  out. 

But  an  action  at  law  would  not  lie  for  merely  "  improper 
proposals";  it  must  go  further  than  that.  The  case  must  be  re- 
constructed. In  no  published  statement,  up  to  this  time,  had 
Tilton  made  any  definite  charge.  Now  he  would  put  his  charge 
in  such  shape  as  would  serve  the  purposes  of  a  suit ;  hence 
the  statement  of  July  21,  followed  by  a  similar  statement  from 
Moulton  published  in  the  Graphic  on  August  21.  The  same 
day  Tilton  began  his  action  against  Mr.  Beecher,  placing  his 
damages  at  §100,000. 

On  the  3d  of  October  both  Tilton  and  Moulton  were  indicted 
for  criminal  libel  by  the  Grand  Jury  of  Kings  County,  on  Mr. 
Beecher's  complaint.  (After  the  failure  of  the  jury  to  agree  in 
the  civil  suit,  this  was  nolle-prossed.) 

Tilton's  suit  came  on  for  trial  the  6th  of  January,  1875,  be- 
fore Judge  Joseph  Neilson,  of  the  Brooklyn  City  Court.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  go  into  the  details  of  this  trial.  The  same  evi- 
dence, substantially,  was  presented  as  was  received  by  the  inves- 
tigating committee,  and  as  appeared  in  the  published  statements. 
For  six  months  the  case  occupied  the  time  of  the  court  and  jury, 
the  testimony  covering  several  thousand  pages  of  printed  matter. 

The  case  was  submitted  to  the  jury  the  24th  day  of  June. 
For  nine  days  the  jury  strove  to  reach  an  agreement,  finally  being 
discharged  the  2d  day  of  July,  standing  three  for  plaintiff  and 
nine  for  defendant. 

We  are  informed,  on  the  authority  of  one  of  the  jurors,  that 
several  times  they  stood  eleven  to  one  in  defendant's  favor,  and 
once  all  agreed  on  a  verdict  for  defendant,  when  a  juror  unfortu- 
nately remarked  that  his  son  had  wagered  a  large  sum  on  a  ver- 
dict for  the  defendant  ;  this  statement  split  the  jury  at  once, 
and  from  thence  on  they*  remained  three  to  nine,  until  they  were 
discharged.  The  case  was  never  brought  to  trial  again,  the 
plaintiff  wholly  abandoning  it.  It  is  well  known  that  after  plain- 
tiff had  abandoned  his  case,  his  leading  counsel,  Hon.  William  A. 


534  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Beach,  frequently  and  publicly  declared  that  the  trial  of  the 
cause  had  convinced  him  of  Mr.  Beecher's  innocence,  and  that 
he  felt  as  though  they  had  been  a  pack  of  hounds  trying  to  pull 
down  a  noble  lion.  Five  years  later  he  expressed  similar  views 
to  the  writer. 

In  the  course  of  the  trial  Mrs.  Moulton  took  the  stand  against 
Mr.  Beecher.  With  downcast  eye,  and  hesitating  voice,  she  cor- 
roborated her  husband. 

Before  the  trial  she  withdrew  from  the  public  service  of  Ply- 
mouth Church,  and  became  a  constant  attendant  at  the  Church 
of  the  Pilgrims  (Dr.  Storrs). 

Plymouth  Church  could  no  longer  tolerate  her  within  its 
membership.  It  was  fully  believed  that,  under  the  coercion  of 
her  husband,  she  had  committed  perjury  during  the  trial,  and  had 
grossly  slandered  her  pastor.  This  would  have  been  the  ground 
of  charges  against  her,  but  the  church  was  advised  that  to  try  her 
on  any  charge  based  upon  her  testimony  in  court,  while  the  suit 
was  still  pending  (plaintiff's  attorneys  had  renoticed  the  cause  for 
a  new  trial,  shortly  after  the  disagreement),  might  involve  them 
in  a  contempt  of  court,  and,  in  any  event,  would  be  construed  as 
an  attempt  to  intimidate  one  of  plaintiff's  most  important  wit- 
nesses. But,  since  she  had  persistently  absented  herself  from 
the  services  of  the  church,  she  could  be  dropped  under  the  sev- 
enth rule  of  the  church  manual.  She  was  accordingly  notified 
of  the  proposed  action  of  the  church  and  invited  to  be  present 
on  the  4th  of  November.  After  hearing  her  defence  through  her 
legal  counsel,  her  name  was  dropped  from  the  rolls  by  a  vote  of 
the  church. 

She  at  once  demanded  a  mutual  council,  to  be  called  by 
Plymouth  Church  and  herself.  Plymouth  Church  protested 
against  Drs.  Storrs's  and  Budington's  churches  participating 
therein,  both  'of  whom  she  had  named,  on  the  ground  that  they 
were  obviously  committed  to  her  side  and  could  not  be  impar- 
tial, but  at  the  same  time  stated  that  they  would  go  on  with  the 
council.  Mrs.  Moulton  declined  unless  the  protest  were  with- 
drawn.    This  being  refused,  she  withdrew. 

About  this  time  it  was  being  rumored  in  certain  circles,  and 
notably  in  Boston,  that  Mr.  Beecher  and  his  church  had  some 
great  secret  that  they  were  concealing  from  the  world,  and  for 
this  reason  had  declined  the  mutual  council  which   Mrs.  Moulton 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  535 

had  proposed — forgetting  that  Mrs.  Moulton  was  the  one  who  had 
abandoned  the  council,  and  further  forgetting  that  an  opportunity 

had  been  offered  to  any   who  knew    anything   detrimental    to    Mr. 

needier,  to  testify  against  him,  first  before  the  committee,  that  sat 
for  two  months,  and  then  in  the  trial,  that  lasted  over  six  months. 
Friends  of  Mr.  Beecher  wrote  to  him  from  Boston  of  this  feeling. 
He  sent  word  at  once  to  a  friend  to  get  the  doubters  together, 
and  that  his  brother,  Dr.  Edward  Beecher,  would  meet  them  and 
answer  all  questions.  From  this  friend  we  received  the  following 
account  of  the  meeting  : 

M  Immediately  I  set  about  the  work  of  collecting  those  who, 
I  thought,  were  honorable  men,  but  misinformed  into  believing 
many  things  in  the  case  which  I  knew  to  be  false.  ...  I  did  not 
invite  a  man  who  had  given  signs  of  being  a  friend  of  your  father, 
but  I  asked  every  man  of  weight  in  the  community  whom  I  had 
reason  to  believe  was  prejudiced  against  him,  and  every  man,  to 
whom  I  had  access,  who  had  expressed  to  my  knowledge  a  judg- 
ment hostile  to  him. 

"  The  majority  accepted.  .  .  .  My  parlors  were  filled.  .  .  . 
At  the  appointed  hour  a  hack  arrived  from  the  depot,  and  out 
stepped  your  father,  followed  by  his  brother.  He  entered  the 
parlors,  and  said  in  substance : 

"  '  Gentlemen,  I  have  been  told  that  some  of  you  feel  that 
there  is  a  lack  of  frankness  on  my  part  with  reference  to  the 
painful  matter  in  controversy,  and  that  there  is  a  desire,  either 
on  my  part  or  on  the  part  of  my  friends,  to  cover  up  and  conceal 
facts.  If  you  think  so  you  are  in  error.  Our  first  desire  is  to 
make  everything  known.  But  it  is,  we  find,  impossible  to  do  so, 
because  so  many  false  rumors  are  flying  about,  and  everything  we 
say  gets  into  the  papers  twisted  awry.  I  have  come  here  to  beg 
you  to  ask  any  questions  you  desire.  Do  not  spare  my  feelings. 
Do  not  be  restrained  by  any  consideration  of  delicacy.  The 
more  searching,  the  more  crucial  your  questions  are,  the  kinder 
you  will  be.  I  will  answer  any  question  you  can  ask  pertaining  to 
this  affair.' 

"  Hour  after  hour  questions  were  asked.  They  were  put 
one  at  a  time,  slowly.  Some  seemed  but  slightly  relevant.  Some 
made  my  blood  boil  to  hear.  Some  seemed  such  as  a  judge 
might  ask  of  a  convicted  criminal  before  pronouncing  sentence. 
But  every  question  was  answered  categorically,  when  that   was 


536 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER. 


possible,  but  always  fully  and  exhaustively,  so  that  the  questioner 
pronounced  himself  entirely  answered  by  the  reply. 

"  During  the  entire  session  there  did  not  fall  from  your  fa- 
ther's lips  one  impatient  word,  one  harsh  rejoinder.  Not  by  a 
gesture  did  he  give  evidence  that  he  suffered.  Only  the  quick 
flush  that  came  at  times  upon  his  cheek,  showed  the  keenness  of 
the  torture  caused  him  by  this  inquisition. 

"  Before  he  left  I  asked  each  one  present,  privately,  if  there 
was  any  question  he  could  think  of,  an  answer  to  which  would, 
in  his  opinion,  throw  light  upon  the  matter,  which  had  not  been 
asked.     In  every  case  I  received  a  negative  reply." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

After- Effects  of  the  Conspiracy — Calling  Council  of  1876 — Principle  of  Se- 
lection— Mr.  Beecher  Cautions  his  Church — Bowen  Reappears  ;  Pro- 
poses a  Secret  Tribunal — Mr.  Beecher's  Reply — Bowen  Dropped  by 
Plymouth  Church — Deliverance  of  Council  sustaining  Plymouth — Mi. 
Beecher's  Persecutors  Denounced — Special  Tribunal. 

BUT  now  the  organized  determination  to  break  down  Mr. 
Beecher's  ministry  and  overthrow  his  church  manifested 
itself  by  a  new  line  of  tactics. 

There  were  at  this  time  a  few  members  whose  relation  to  the 
church  was  very  peculiar,  who  were  neither  in  it  nor  out  of  it, 
apparently,  who  did  not  ask,  or  who  refused  positively,  to  take 
letters  to  other  churches,  who  were  not  amenable  to  the  discip- 
line of  the  church,  but  who  stood  off,  would  not  attend  its 
meetings  nor  observe  its  ordinances,  and  who,  when  dealt  with 
fraternally,  in  every  way  the  church  knew  how,  to  procure 
them  peaceably  to  sever  their  connection  and  relieve  the 
church  from  responsibility,  refused  to  do  it  or  neglected  to  do 
it  ;  and  then,  when  it  was  proposed  to  drop  them,  without  any 
reflection  more  than  belonged  to  the  nature  of  the  case,  they 
threatened,  "  If  you  drop  us  we  will  call  a  council."  There 
were  at  one  time  four  councils  threatened,  by  four  different  mem- 
bers on  these  grounds.  It  soon  became  very  clearly  understood, 
that  the  tactics  of  the  adversary  were  now,  to  wear  out  the  pa- 
tience of  the  people,  by  a  continuous  series  of  councils,  which 
would  at  last  weary  men  from  coming  to  a  church  where  there 
was  such  incessant  trouble. 

It  was  in  consequence  of  these  tactics,  that  Plymouth  Church 
determined  to  end  all  such  annoyances,  by  calling  a  National 
Advisory  Council,  that  should  look  through  its  rules  and  prin- 
ciples, and  its  entire  administration  under  them  ;  to  have  it 
of  such  magnitude,  and  made  up  of  such  churches  and  men,  as 
that  its  deliverances  would  be  final,  making  an  end  of  all  these 
controversies  and  giving  the  church  solid  ground  to  go  on. 

537 


538  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Invitations  were  sent  to  one  hundred  and  seventy-two 
churches,  to  be  represented  by  pastor  and  delegate,  and  twenty 
ministers  without  charges,  principally  theological  writers  and 
professors  in  theological  colleges.  None  were  invited  from  New 
York  City  or  Brooklyn,  because  of  the  general  local  feeling. 

The  principal  questions  submitted  were,  substantially,  whether 
Plymouth  Church  had  acted  contrary  to  the  word  of  God  or 
the  principles  of  Christian  justice  in  allowing  to  itself  in  any  case 
any  other  mode  of  terminating  membership  than  death,  letters 
of  dismission,  and  excommunication  ? 

2.  What  course  ought  it  to  pursue  towards  those  who  per- 
sistently absented  themselves  from  its  services  for  various  per- 
sonal reasons  ? 

3.  And  towards  those  who  were  reported  as  having  made  in- 
sinuations affecting  the  character  of  other  members,  but  who 
neither  admit  nor  deny  such  reports  ? 

4.  Whether  the  church  should  have  called  a  mutual  council  to 
investigate  the  charges  against  its  pastor  when  so  required  by  a 
member  who  submits  no  charges,  and  more  than  a  year  after  a 
full  investigation  by  the  church,  in  which  the  pastor  had  been 
sustained  by  a  unanimous  vote  ? 

5.  Whether  its  course  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Moulton  had  been 
wise  and   just  ? 

6.  Whether,  in  its  maintenance  of  order,  it  had  gone  beyond 
its  rights,  so  as  to  justly  forfeit  its  claim  to  the  confidence  and 
fellowship  of  Congregational  churches  ? 

The  letter-missive  was  dated  February  1,  1876,  and  the  coun- 
cil was  called  for  the  15th. 

The  principle  upon  which  the  council  was  made  up,  we  can 
learn  from  a  letter  written  January  28,  1876,  by  Mr.  Beecher  to 
an  eminent  doctor  of  divinity  whose  advice  he  wished  respecting 
certain  churches  in  his  vicinity  : 

"  Allow  me  to  say  a  word  as  to  the  principles  of  selection  in 
this  council.  It  will  be  gathered  from  the  whole  land,  as  far 
West  as  the  Mississippi.  It  leaves  out  men  committed  to  a  pol- 
icy, or  who  are  known  to  be  working  in  league  with  adversary 
churches.  But  I  wish  to  have  honest  men,  capable  of  judg- 
ing upon  facts  and  evidence,  who  are  not  so  obstinate  that 
they  will  not  yield  to  conviction,  or  so  tied  to  theories  that 
they  will  look  at  everything  under  a  bias.     I  don't  care  whether 


//./•.  ///..vat  WARD  iu-.eciiek.  539 

they  like  me  «>r  not,  whether  they  agree  with  my  views,  whether 
they   approve   or   disapprove   of    all    the    policy   of    Plymouth 

Church.     I   only  want  men  who  will    he  candid    and  who  will   act 
impartially." 

Quite  a  number  attended  who  had  been  members  of  the  prior 
council  of  1874  ;  and  when  the  council  met,  a  considerable  ma- 
jority— their  views  having  been  acquired  from  newspaper  reports 
— entertained  grave  doubts  as  to  the  regularity  of  Plymouth 
Church  in  its  previous  conduct.  The  effect  which  the  evidence 
presented  had  upon  their  minds  will  appear  later  on. 

At  the  Friday  night  prayer-meeting  just  preceding  the  sitting 
of  council,  Mr.  Beecher  cautioned  his  people  respecting  their 
conduct  during  the  council. 

"This  church  has  for  years  been  called  to'  go  through  deep 
waters.  For  more  than  twenty  years  we  had  well-nigh  unabated 
prosperity,  and  we  were  almost  ready  to  boast  that  we  had  such 
wise  methods  of  government  and  such  signal  presentations  of 
truth  as  made  our  church  life  easy  ;  that  we  had  not  the  vexa- 
tions which  belonged  to  other  churches  ;  and  it  is  not  unlikely 
that  we  may  have  become  proud  and  self-sufficient.  But  certainly 
for  the  last  few  years  God  has  been  dealing  with  us  as  with  sons, 
and  has  chastened  us  ;  and  it  becomes  us  to  bear  in  mind  that 
the  best  gift  of  God  to  an  individual  or  to  a  church  is  that  kind 
of  chastisement  which  works  out  trust,  patience,  long-suffering, 
kindness,  and  fruitfulness  in  labor.      •  — 

"With  these  thoughts  in  mind,  I  wish  to-night  to  speak  a  few 
words  to  you,  and  exhort  you,  even  more  signally  in  days  that 
are  to  come,  than  you  have  in  days  that  are  past  (for  from  my 
heart  I  can  commend  you  in  this  respect),  to  carry  out  and  enno- 
ble that  patience,  that  fidelity,  and  that  churchly  love,  which,  un- 
der great  difficulties  you  have  shown. 

"  My  beloved,  beware  lest  your  intelligent  judgment  and  con- 
scientiousness in  the  cause  of  Christ,  be  absorbed  in  the  feeling  of 
personal  love  and  sympathy  for  your  elder  brother.  Beware  lest 
you  be  drawn  into  a  kind  of  clannish  feeling  of  anxiety  for  him. 
I  know  that  I  have  your  love  and  sympathy,  and  I  know  that  I 
am  prayed  for  by  you.  That  suffices  me;  but  on  your  part  it 
will  be  very  bad  for  you  to  suffer  this  mere  human  feeling  toward 
an  individual  to  fill  so  large  a  place  in  your  heart  as  that  it  may  be 
said  to  fill  your  experience.     You  are  a  church  of  Christ  set  on  a 


1 


540  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

hill,  and  you  cannot  be  hid  ;  and  your  business  here  is  to  mani- 
fest Jesus  Christ  to  the  world  in  such  a  way  as  to  win  them  to  a 
nobler  life  ;  and  you  ought  not  to  forget  for  what  you  are  or- 
dained. I  have  tried  to  set  you  an  example.  I  have  endeavored 
to  keep  free  from  such  states  of  mind,  and  from  such  person- 
ality, either  as  regards  you  or  myself,  as  should  interfere  with  the 
teaching  and  the  reception  here  of  the  fullest  and  most  edifying 
truths  of  our  common  faith  ;  and  by  the  grace  of  God  I  have 
been  enabled  mainly  to  succeed  in  doing  it.  I  doubt  if  any 
one  hearing  the  sermons  that  have  been  preached  here,  with  one 
or  two  exceptions,  for  the  last  five  years,  would  from  them  suspect 
anything  of  that  history  through  which  this  church  has  gone. 

"  So  far  as  you  are  concerned,  I  do  not  say  that  it  is  possible 
for  you  not  to  converse  about  our  difficulties  in  your  families, 
and  with  each  other  ;  but  you  may  do  it  too  much  ;  and,  there- 
fore, I  wish  to  emphasize  that  your  business  as  a  church  is  not  to 
take  care  of  me,  but  to  take  care  of  and  forward  the  work  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  your  Head  and  Master.  Do  not,  therefore, 
under  the  influence  of  amiable  feelings,  and  warm  sympathies, 
make  the  mistake  of  supposing  that  you  are  in  a  campaign  of  any 
sort,  except  that  of  rallying  around  about  our  appointed  Leader. 
In  the  church,  in  your  families,  and  in  our  mission  schools,  your 
business  is  to  promote  the  teaching  of  Christ,  for  the  awakening 
of  men,  and  for  the  building  up  of  all  those  who  have  undertaken 
the  Christian  life. 

"In  pursuing  this  course,  it  behooves  you  to  remember  that 
under  such  severe  and  prolonged  trouble,  God  expects  of  you,  not 
only  that  you  will  be  constant  and  faithful  in  His  service,  but 
that  you  will  grow  richer,  more  spiritual,  and  in  every  way  more 
like  Christ.  You  have  had,  and  are  having,  a  better  opportunity 
for  fulfilling  the  disposition  set  forth  in  the  Gospel,  than  is  given 
to  one  church  in  a  hundred.  God  has  been  and  is  dealing  with 
you  as  with  sons. 

"We  are  on  the  eve  of  a  memorable  week.  In  1874  a  great 
council  was  called  in  Brooklyn  to  sit  on  our  affairs,  in  which 
we  were  not  to  participate  ;  now  we  have  called  a  council  to  act 
upon  our  own  affairs,  and  in  this  we  must  needs  participate ;  and 
there  are  one  or  two  things  that  I  wish  to  say  to  you. 

"  First,  you  that  receive  the  brethren  into  your  households, 
ought   to   set  up  in  your  hearts  a  sentiment   of  honor  that  shall 


REV,  HENRY   WARD   BEECHRR 


51' 


have  no  downfall  nor  intermission,      rhose  gentlemen  that  <  ome 

to  take  part  in  this  council  come  impartially.      Their   office    IS   to 

hear,  and  to  give  Mich  advice  as  the  Lord  may  inspire  in  them, 

upon  the  tacts  that  shall  be  presented.  In  some  sense — not 
technically  —  they  are  as  judges  ;  and  you  must  not  attempt  in 
your  homes  to  influence  them,  nor  by  your  sympathy  and  kind- 
ness in  the  least  degree  to  beguile  them  from  the  fullest  and 
fairest  discharge  of  their  duty.  Even  if  their  judgment  should 
be  adverse  to  your  convictions  and  mine,  nevertheless  it  is  very 
plainly  a  matter  of  Christian  honor  that  they  should  be  in  your 
families,  without  in  the  least  being  biassed  by  social  influences. 

"  Secondly,  when  you  shall  attend  the  open  meetings  of  the 
council  (for  it  must  needs  be  that  largely  the  audience  will  be 
composed  of  members  of  this  church  and  society),  I  beseech  of 
you,  by  all  that  is  honorable  and  by  all  that  is  gentlemanly,  that 
there  be,  neither  from  the  gallery  nor  from  any  other  part  of 
the  house,  first  or  last,  the  slightest  exhibition  either  of  approval 
or  disapproval.  I  could  wish  that  you  might  sit  in  your  pews  as 
if  you  were  marble,  though  I  know  that  your  hearts  are  hot  with- 
in you.  That  council  ought  to  be  able  to  sit  in  the  midst  of  the 
congregation  of  this  church  and  never  hear  a  whisper  nor  feel  a 
wave  of  influence  exerted  upon  them.  We  called  them  that  they 
might  do  their  duty  faithfully  ;  and  I  trust  that  you  will  com- 
mend yourselves  in  their  sight  by  the  most  absolute  abstention 
from  any  expression  of  thought  or  feeling  in  their  presence. 

"  In  the  third  place,  I  beg  of  you,  both  now  and  when  they 
shall  have  assembled,  to  bear  them  in  your  hearts  in  prayer, 
morning  and  night,  before  God. 

"  If  you  will  pray  more  for  men  you  will  have  less  occasion 
to  do  anything  else  ;  and,  in  regard  to  this  council,  praying  for 
them  is  a  mode  of  exerting  an  influence  upon  them,  which  you 
may  indulge  in.  Do  you  believe  in  God  ?  Do  you  believe  in 
the  Holy  Spirit?  Do  you  believe  in  prayer?  Do  you  not  be- 
lieve that  it  is  in  the  power  of  God  to  descend  into  such  a  coun- 
cil, to  bring  a  summer  atmosphere  into  them  and  around  them, 
and  to  lead  them  by  the  invisible  hand  of  truth,  of  love,  and  of 
justice  ?     Pray  much  for  them. 

"  And  in  one  last  word  let  me  say  that  while  all  this  agitation 
is  going  on,  while  the  papers  are  full  of  bickerings,  full  of  fiery 
darts  that  fall  like  sparks  from  the  smith's  forge,  remember  that 


542  BIOGRAPHY  OP 

your  duty  is  in  church  work  and  in  church  life.  So  far  as  pos- 
sible, throw  these  unpleasant  things  off  from  your  mind  ;  take 
care  of  your  classes  and  schools  ;  attend  faithfully  to  your  mis- 
sion work  ;  live  sweeter  and  holier  lives  in  the  family  ;  be  better 
men  and  better  Christians  in  the  household  ;  do  not  let  too  much 
of  the  storm  whistle  through  the  cracks  and  crevices  of  your  ex- 
perience— keep  it  out  ;  live  individually  and  collectively  near  to 
Christ,  and  He  will  take  care  of  me  and  of  you.  As  He  has  done 
in  times  past,  so  will  He  do,  and  more  abundantly,  in  the  future, 
to  the  joy  of  our  hearts  and  to  the  honor  of  His  own  great 
name." 

In  the  interim  between  the  calling  of  the  council  and  its  con- 
vening, the  case  of  Mr.  Bowen  came  up  before  the  church.  For 
several  years  past,  the  old  stories,  which  were  supposed  to  have 
originated  with  him,  had  been  set  in  circulation  again,  and  quite 
recently  a  card  appeared  in  a  Brooklyn  paper,  over  the  signature 
of  Mr.  Bowen's  son,  in  effect  repeating  these  slanders.  A  com- 
mittee of  Plymouth  Church  waited  upon  Mr.  Bowen,  but  he  re- 
fused to  admit  or  deny  that  he  was  the  originator  of  the  stories — 
refused  to  make  any  statement  or  do  anything.  Ultimately  he 
sent  a  letter  to  the  committee  (at  the  same  time  publishing  it  in 
the  newspapers)  making  charges  against  Mr.  Beecher,  but  in 
effect  refusing  to  substantiate  them,  because  he  had  not  time  to 
look  up  his  evidence  ;  but  offering  to  submit  his  charges  to  a  con- 
fidential committee  of  three,  provided  he  should  not  be  called 
on  to  give  names,  and  that  the  committee  should  report  only 
their  conclusions. 

When  this  letter  was  read  at  a  church  meeting  Mr.  Beecher 
arose  and  said  : 

"  I  do  not  propose  to  argue  this  question  to-night — it  is  not 
fit  that  I  should  do  it.  I  only  propose  to  say  one  or  two  words 
on  the  matter  ;  and  one  is  :  if  for  the  last  fifteen  years  and  more, 
Mr.  Bowen  has  been  in  possession  of  such  facts  as  he  now  al- 
leges in  his  letter,  that  he  has,  and  never  has  mentioned  them 
to  me,  nor  communicated  them  to  any  officer  of  this  church, 
nor  in  anywise  brought  them  to  the  knowledge  of  the  church 
itself,  he  deserves  to  be  expelled  from  the  church  for  a  violation 
of  his  covenant.  If  I  am  what  he  alleges  me  to  be,  and  have 
been  what  he  alleges  I  have  been,  and  he  knew  it,  and  permitted 
it,  without  a  word  of  warning  to  me  or  to  this  church,  he  has  com- 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  543 

lllitted  a  crime  against  the  church,  and  against  morality  ;  and  it 
his  allegation  is  not  true,  but  is  a  lie,  then  he  is  guilty  of  one  <>t 
the  blackest  crimes  that  e\er  emanated  from  tin-  bottomless  pit — 
and,  before  God,  1  pronounce  the  allegations  that  he  lias,  made 
to  be  utterly  false. 

"  Further  let  me  say  that  when  Mr.  Rouen,  being  called  upon 
to  state  what  these  facts  are,  and  what  are  the  proofs  of  them 
which  he  has  in  his  possession,  pleads  that  lie  is  upon  trial,  and 
that  he  has  not  time  to  look  them  up,  what  are  we  to  think  of 
such  a  plea  ?  He  had  time  to  write  that  letter,  and  to  charge  me 
with  being  a  criminal  before  the  public  of  this  continent,  and, 
having  had  time  to  represent  me  as  a  monster,  and  to  publish  that 
representation  in  the  newspapers,  now,  when  he  is  asked,  '  What 
is  your  evidence  ? '  he  has  not  time  to  produce  it !  Ought  not  that 
to  have  been  thought  of  before  he  made  the  charge  public  ? 

"  I  have  another  word  to  say,  and  that  is  in  regard  to  the 
tribunal  which  he  proposes — a  tripartite  committee,  a  committee 
composed  of  three  persons — on  condition  that  in  their  presence 
he  may  hide  names,  and  that  then  their  judgment  be  given  out  in 
adjudication  of  the  question.  Now,  I  say  that  no  secrecy  shall 
rest  on  this  matter.  I  do  not  say  that  I  would  not  in  some  re- 
spects be  willing  to  go  before  such  a  committee,  but  this  I  say  : 
Nothing  on  this  subject  shall  be  kept  secret.  If  this  matter  is 
not  explored  to  the  bottom  it  shall  be  because  my  will  is  set 
aside  I  do  not  propose  that  Mr.  Bowen  shall  hide  himself,  nor 
will  I  permit  anything  to  be  hidden  about  me,  by  having  the 
matter  referred  to  any  three  gentlemen  who  shall  only  let  out 
what  they  think.  What  they  think  will  not  satisfy  you  ;  what 
they  think  will  not  satisfy  me  ;  and  since  the  allegations  have 
been  made  public  through  the  newspapers,  and  Mr.  Bowen 's 
name  is  attached  to  them,  he  has  got  to  face  the  facts,  he  has  got 
to  produce  the  evidence.  And  as  for  myself,  I  have  only  this  to 
say  :  I  pronounce  all  the  insinuations  and  allegations  he  has 
made  as  false,  and,  with  Almighty  God  and  the  judgment  day  be- 
fore me,  I  arraign  him  as  a  slanderer  and  a  liar." 

Mr.  Bowen  produced  no  evidence  to  sustain  his  charges,  and 
the  church  subsequently  voted  that  they  could  dispense  with  him. 

On  the  15th  of  February  the  council,  the  largest  of  its  kind 
that  had  ever  been  convened  in  this  country,  met.      Dr.  Bacon 


544  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

was  chosen  moderator ;  ex-Governor  Dingley,  of  Maine,  and 
General  Erastus  N.  Bates,  assistant  moderators. 

While  the  questions  presented  to  the  council  were  principally 
as  to  church  regularity,  the  sixth  also  opened  up  the  question  of 
the  action  and  result  of  the  Investigating  Committee  referred  to, 
and,  generally,  the  whole  conduct  of  the  church  with  reference  to 
its  pastor  ;  this  naturally  led  to  questions  being  put  to  Mr.  Beecher 
personally  as  to  the  policy  he  had  followed  respecting  the  scandal. 

Both  Mr.  Beecher  and  the  committee  of  the  church  invited 
the  fullest  questioning  on  any  point  that  could  be  suggested  ; 
urged  the  council  to  invite  Drs.  Storrs  and  Budington  to  be 
present,  to  call  Mrs.  Moulton's  counsel,  and  to  examine  Mr. 
Bowen — all  of  which  the  council  did,  Drs.  Storrs  and  Buding- 
ton declining  to  attend. 

For  eight  days — three  sessions  each  day,  morning,  afternoon, 
and  evening — Mr.  Beecher  and  the  committee  stood  as  targets  for 
the  questions  of  the  council. 

"We  present  some  of  Mr.  Beecher's  replies,  as  throwing  light 
upon  himself,  and  his  actions,  during  the  origin  and  growth  of  the 
scandal. 

To  the  question  why  he  had  remained  silent  during  the  earlier 
rumors  set  afloat  by  Bowen  and  Tilton,  and  did  not  demand  an 
investigation,  he  said  :  "  This  was  the  reason.  The  relations 
which  subsisted  between  me  and  my  people  were  those  of  very 
strong  personal  affection.  I  know  all  of  you  must  be  very  much 
beloved  by  those  whom  you  attend  in  sickness,  to  whom  you 
preach,  and  whose  troubles  and  sorrows  you  console.  My  God 
has  given  me  a  sympathetic  nature,  ardent  and  loving.  I  attract 
friends  to  me,  and  usually  I  hold  them.  I  was  dear  to  very 
many  ;  and  it  has  been  the  honor,  as  it  has  been  the  glory,  of  my 
recollection,  that  I  have  been  beloved  by  those,  to  be  beloved  by 
whom  is  itself  enough  witness  and  enough  honor.  And  it  was 
because,  from  various  reasons,  intimations  were  made  pointing  to 
one,  and  another,  and  another,  that  I  saw  that,  if  I  were  to  rush 
recklessly  out  after  every  rumor  of  this  kind,  which  came  insidi- 
ously and  circuitously,  I  should  bring  a  torrent  of  publicity  and 
reproach  upon  one,  two,  three,  many  persons  ;  and  the  question 
with  me  was,  not  simply  what  I  ought  to  do,  but,  '  Will  you,  for 
your  own  vindication,  bring  on  an  investigation,  and  project  into 
publicity  those   persons  who  have  the  rights,  the  sanctities,  and 


REV.  ///■:. \7v"  Y  WARD  HER,  545 

the  delicacies  of  the  domestic  circle  around  about  them?1  And 
now  you  sec,  when  the  first  of  these  rumors  has  been  brought 

into  public  DOtice,  how  it  has  spread  and  gone,  like  a  lire  on  a 
prairie,  all  over  the  United  States;  and  you  see  just  what  I  ap- 
prehended would  be  the  case.     Having  connei  ted  with  me,  in  my 

relations  to  public  affairs,  parties  and  discussions  of  many  sorts,  I 
knew  that  the  connection  with  my  name  in  one  of  these  various 
matters,  under  the  circumstances,  would  proclaim  it  throughout 
Christendom;  and  the  question  with  me  was:  'Will  you  stand 
patiently  for  God  to  vindicate  you  from  these  suggestions,  putting 
to  shame  those  that  accuse  you  falsely ;  or  will  you  vindicate 
yourself  by  bringing  sheeted  publicity,  and  lurid  investigation, 
on  one,  on  two,  or  on  scores  ? '     I  chose  the  course  of  silence." 

In  reply  to  another  question  : 

"  Now,  I  wish  to  hear  the  other  part  of  the  question,  sir — 
whether  I  am  willing  that  Dr.  Storrs  and  Dr.  Budington  should 
state  anything  that  they  know — any  facts  ?  I  should  like  to  know 
how  much  longer  a  man  need  be  at  the  focus  of  a  solar  micro- 
scope, with  all  the  sun  in  the  heavens  concentrated  upon  him  for 
six  months,  and  everything  that  could  be  raked,  from  the  North 
Pole  to  the  South  Pole,  and  round  the  earth  forty  times  cir- 
cuited, raked  up  and  brought  in,  and  be  willing  to  have  it  raked 
up  and  brought  in  again  ?  How  much  longer  does  a  man  want  to 
have  his  willingness  to  have  the  truth  come  out,  vindicated  ?  If 
there  is  any  man  on  earth  that  has  anything  to  say — that  he  wants 
to  say — if  there  is  any  man  on  earth  that  has  anything  to  say  to 
my  detriment,  I  here  and  now  challenge  him  to  say  it !  I  go  fur- 
ther than  that.  If  there  be  any  angel  of  God,  semi-prescient  and 
omniscient,  I  challenge  him  to  say  aught.  I  go  beyond  that,  and, 
in  the  name  of  our  common  Redeemer,  and  before  Kim  who 
shall  judge  you  and  me,  I  challenge  the  truth  from  God  Him- 
self!  And  what  is  all  this  going  to  do?  To-morrow  morn- 
ing it  will  be  said  in  the  local  journals  :  '  Well,  Mr.  Beecher — 
how  rhetorically  he  managed  the  matter  !  '  And  it  will  be  put  in 
the  religious  papers  :  ■  Oh  !  yes  ;  that  was  a  very  plausible  state- 
ment at  the  time,  but — but — '  And  I  am  in  judgment  between 
two  devils,  'But'  and  'If.'  Nothing  that  I  say  is  taken  to  be 
true,  and  I  am  put  upon  a  perpetual  trial  of  my  veracity  ;  al- 
though I  am  willing  to  be  tried,  I  don't  disguise  from  myself,  sup- 
pressing every  sentiment  of  natural  honor  that  pertains  to  a  gen- 


546  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

tleman — I  know  perfectly  well  this  whole  process  is  a  continuous 
trial  and  crucifixion  of  every  sentiment  of  honor  and  every  sensi- 
bility of  my  soul,  and  that  I  am  questioned,  and  questioned,  and 
questioned,  and  questioned,  as  I  have  been,  through  months  and 
years,  on  the  supposition  that  the  truth  has  not  been  got  out. 
And  I  suppose  it  will  be  so  to  the  end  of  my  life.  I  don't  look 
with  any  great  hope  for  the  result  of  this  council.  I  don't  look 
for  any  hope  from  the  result  of  any  council  or  tribunal.  I  think 
there  is  hope  in  the  grave,  and  beyond  ;  but  for  me,  I  expect  to 
walk  with  a  clouded  head,  not  understood,  until  I  go  to  heaven, 
and  that  is  not  far  off — that  is  not  far  away.  And  I  am  content 
to  bear  just  that  lot  that  my  dear  Lord  puts  on  me.  He  knows 
what  is  best.  I  have  accepted  it.  Though  the  natural  man  re- 
bels once  in  a  while  and  bubbles  out,  yet  grace  in  the  end  puts  it 
down.  But  I  am  content  to  walk  so.  All  my  sorrow  is  that  the 
preciousness  of  the  Gospel,  which  it  is  given  to  me  to  preach,  is 
hindered  somewhat  by  this  trouble  ;  but  to  work  for  Christ,  and 
to  save  men,  is  my  calling,  and  not  to  vindicate  myself." 

Again,  referring  to  the  perverse  malignity  that  had  character 
ized  his  enemies  :  "  I  said,  and  now  I  repeat  it,  that  this  church 
and  its  pastor  have  been  systematically,  studiously  pursued  with 
perversions  and  what  cannot  be  considered  other  than  deliberate 
falsehoods.  In  some  quarters,  whatever  has  happened  has  been 
so  uniformly  twisted,  as  to  indicate  what  I  supposed  to  be  the 
truth — namely,  an  organized  movement  to  pervert  everything  and 
destroy  that  influence  which  I  formerly  had  with  the  common 
people  of  America,  and  then  to  bring  vexations,  so  many  and  so 
frequent,  upon  the  church  as  to  disintegrate  its  patience,  and  thus 
to  leave  me  alone  without  anything.  And  I  will  say  that  the 
backbitings,  the  whisperings,  the  innuendoes,  the  studious  shut- 
ting of  the  understanding  to  all  fairness,  when  I  make  statements, 
and  the  opening  it  wide  to  all  partisan  misrepresentations,  when 
those  statements  were  reported  otherwise,  have  been  such  as  to 
open  a  new  chapter  in  my  mind  of  human  experience,  and  to 
carry  me  far  back  towards  the  old  doctrine  of  total  depravity."' 

In  the  course  of  one  of  the  sessions  the  pastor  of  a  Boston 
church,  referring  to  the  unjust  rumor,  current  in  certain  quarters, 
that  since  the  scandal  had  come  out  the  church  and  its  pastor 
had  not  brought  out  all  the  facts,  that  there  were  rumors  of  some- 
thing yet  unpublished,  and  that  they  were  now  unreasonably  re- 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  547 

fusing  to  submit  the  matter  before  some  new  tribunal,  <  • 
his  surprise  at  hearing  the  statement  of  the  committee,  and  won- 
dered thai  Mr.  Beecher  and   his  church  had  not   been  better  un- 
derstood by  the  public.     To  this  Mr.  Beecher  replied: 

"  Gentlemen,  you  won't  suspect  me  of  any  disrespect  to  you, 
but  I  want  to  put  a  home  question  to  you.  This  church  has 
been  occupied  in  publishing  to  the  world  lor  the  last  three  years, 
a  statement  of  those  facts  that  have  set  you  perfectly  aghast,  as 
novel  and  wonderful.  What  are  you  going  to  do  when  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  morality  and  the  intelligence  of  this  nation  won't 
read  a  word  that  is  published,  of  the  results  of  the  church  in- 
vestigation, and  the  court  investigation,  but,  coming  up  after  they 
have  been  published  for  months,  yet  are  amazed  at  the  simple 
statement  of  that,  which  has  been  in  the  newspapers  and  the  court 
records,  during  all  this  time  ?  Are  we  forced  not  only  to  forge 
wedges  of  intelligence,  but  use  clubs  to  drive  them  into  your 
heads  ?  We  have  been  doing  everything  that  man  could  do,  in 
opening,  in  publishing,  and,  as  far  as  it  took  any  definite  shape, 
in  meeting.  But  you  cannot  hunt  a  stench  ;  you  can  an  arrow, 
but  a  smell  you  can't.  And  therefore  these  odorous  beasts  are 
going  up  and  down  the  streets,  casting  some  venom  and  some 
odor  ;  we  can't  spend  the  time  of  a  Christian  church  for  ever 
hunting  these  things.  Am  I  to  run  after  every  rat  in  creation  ? 
Am  I  to  run  after  every  leech,  and  worm,  and  every  venomous 
insect  ? 

"  You  have  a  right  to  demand  of  us  tha£  we  shall  meet  accusa- 
tions when  they  come  up  responsibly  stated.  Did  we  not  meet 
them  the  moment  the  '  Bacon  letter '  appeared  ?  Within  the  time 
that  was  necessary  to  bring  me  back  from  the  country  and  back 
to  the  city,  did  we  not  instantly  meet  them  writh  a  call  for  investi- 
gation in  the  church  ?  Was  not  that  investigation  made  with  a 
proclamation  to  the  world  to  bring  in  everything  known  ?  It  was 
not  zeal  covering  me,  it  was  dissection,  and  when  the  investiga- 
tion had  been  made  it  was  published  to  the  world.  No  sooner 
had  it  been  completed  than  we  all  distributed  ourselves  in  the 
country  for  rest.  When  we  came  back  I  went  instantly  to  a  civil 
court.  That  trial  was  noticed  for  action  immediately  on  my  re- 
turn, and  I  continued  for  six  months  in  that  court-room,  and 
every  paper  in  the  United  States  helped  distribute  the  information 
of  the  facts  that  were  then  disclosed.     In   July  or  August  the 


548  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

court  adjourned  and  we  went  back  into  the  country.  We  had 
scarcely  come  back  again  from  the  summer  vacation,  before  we 
took  the  matter  up  again  in  regard  to  members  of  this  church, 
and  issued  process  upon  them,  and  this  process  has  been  that 
which  has  filled,  the  whole  time  since,  the  newspapers  and  the 
clerical  mind  of  the  country.  Where  has  been  the  time  and  space 
in  which  we  could  institute  anything  else?  Have  we  not  been 
busy  ?  Or  shall  we  stay  up  all  night,  and  turn  Sunday  into  a 
judicial  day,  and  investigate  somewhat  more  ? 

"  I  don't  know — as  long  as  God  knows,  and  my  mother,  how 
it  is,  I  have  come  to  about  the  state  of  mind  that  I  don't  care  for 
you  or  anybody  else.  Well,  you  know  that  is  not  so  :  I  do  care 
and  I  don't,  and  I  do  again  and  then  I  don't — just  as  I  happen 
to  feel.  I  am  tired  of  you  ;  I  am  tired  of  the  world  ;  I  am  tired 
of  men  that  make  newspapers,  and  men  that  read  them  ;  I  am 
tired  of  a  community  that  has  not  a  particle  of  moral  reaction. 
I  am  tired  of  an  age  which  will  permit  the  newspapers  to  be 
flooded,  and  to  make  themselves  the  common  sewers  of  filth  and 
scandal ;  I  am  tired  of  a  community  that  can  read  them,  and 
read  them,  and  read  them  without  revolting.  I  am  tired  of  wait- 
ing for  an  honorable  man  that  shall  stand  up  at  last,  and  say,  in 
the  name  of  honor  and  manhood,  '  This  is  outrageous  !  ' 

"  And  yet  I  am  going  to  bear  it,  and  I  am  going  on  preaching, 
and  I  am  going  to  preach  here,  and  when  I  am  shut  up  here  I 
don't  know  where  I  shall  preach  ;  but  I  don't  believe  that  I  shall 
live  long  after  I  have  stopped  preaching.  But  what  I  want  is  to 
do  God's  work,  and  if  it  is  necessary  to  have  a  reputation  in  An- 
dover,  or  a  reputation  in  Chicago,  before  I  am  to  preach,  I  may 
as  well  stop  at  once.  But  my  own  feeling  about  it  is  this  :  I  am 
entrusted  with  the  tidings  of  salvation  to  dying  men,  and  the  first 
wish  of  my  heart,  is  not  my  good  name  nor  my  reputation.  Dear 
as  they  are  to  me  for  my  children's  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  my 
family,  after  all  there  is  a  Name  that  is  better  to  me  than  mine, 
there  is  a  Name  above  every  other  name — for  my  trouble  has 
brought  me  very  near  to  it,  and  the  glory  of  Christ.  God's  glory 
and  God's  delicacy,  and  sweetness  and  love  were  never  made  so 
apparent  to  me,  as  since  I  have  felt  the  need  of  them  in  other 
folks. 

"...  I  will  answer  as  regards  any  paper  that  is  in  the  pos- 
session of  anv  man,  woman,  or  child  on  this  continent,  or  on  the 


Kl.r.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  549 

lea,  or  on  the  land,  and  beyond  the  sea  ;  anybody  m  heaven  and 
anybody  in  hell,  that  has  any  document  that  I  I  1  written, 

or  any  information  that  touches  me  in  any  manner,  I  hereby  give 
my   permission  to  them  to  produce  it,  and  I  (  hallenge  them  to 

produce  it,  ami  if  it  is  anything  that  will  throw  light  on  me  and 
inculpate  me,  I  demand,  by  every  consideration  of  honor,  truth, 
and  justice,  that  it  be  delivered  now  and  here,  or  that  tor  ever 
after  they  and  everybody  shall  hold  their  peace." 

At  another  time,  referring  to  the  burden  of  expense  in  the 
civil  trial  alone  : 

"  I  think  people  look  upon  my  being  tried  as  if  it  was  a  game 
of  battledore  and  shuttlecock,  and  as  if  being  tried  was  nothing 
but  being  tossed  through  the  air  by  two  clever  fellows,  and  as  it 
I  ought  to  like  it.  And  any  expression  of  preference  of  one  tri- 
bunal over  another,  or  any  arithmetical  expression  of  how  many 
times  I  would  like  to  be  tried,  is  said  to  be  covering  up  some- 
thing or  other.  I  would  like  to  state  to  the  brethren  here  that 
my  expenses  for  the  trial  of  six  months,  and  expenses  of  living 
for  the  year,  amounted  to  $118,000.  I  do  not  feel  disposed  to  go 
through  a  great  many  more  such  trials,  but  I  trust  you  won't 
think  it  is  because  I  want  to  cover  anything  up,  unless  it  is  my 
pockets.  And  if  there  is  anybody  who  wishes  to  take  my  place 
in  the  matter,  and  will  pay  the  expenses,  I  will  give  up  most 
cheerfully  and  let  them  represent  me.  I  ought  to  state  further 
in  regard  to  these  expenses — I  state  it  in  love  and  honor  to  my 
dear  friend  Shearman — that  he  would  not  take  one  penny  for  the 
whole  year's  service,  and  that,  aside  from  serving  freely  without 
money  and  without  price,  he  so  absolutely  abandoned  his  busi- 
ness, that  his  income  was  cut  down  nine-tenths  or  more  of  what 
he  was  accustomed  to  receive,  and  that,  great  as  my  expenses 
were,  relatively,  his  were  double  mine,  for  the  love-service  which 
he  performed  during  this  time." 

On  the  24th  of  February  the  "  result  of  council  was  an- 
nounced." 

In  this  the  council  sustained  Plymouth  Church  on  every  point, 
at  the  same  time  recommending  a  few  changes  in  its  manual 
which    it    was  thought  might  save  complication  in  the  future.* 

*  Most  of  them  had  at  the  time  been  proposed  by  the  church,  and  all 
were  promptly  a'loptrd. 


550  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

The  council  further  advised  in  its  "  result "  : 

"In  view  of  the  fact  that  the  pastor  of  this  church  has  de- 
manded that  his  accusers  be  brought  to  face  him,  and  has  invited 
such  investigation  as  this  council  may  think  desirable,  for  the 
peace  and  prosperity  of  the  churches,  and  in  order  to  protect 
Plymouth  Church  from  further  vexatious  proceedings,  this  coun- 
cil advises  this  church  to  accept  and  empower  a  commission  of 
five  members,  to  be  created  by  a  committee  of  three,  hereinafter 
specified,  out  of  the  twenty  men  hereinafter  named  ;  the  duty  of 
which  commission  shall  be  to  receive  and  examine  all  charges 
against  the  pastor  which  they  may  regard  as  not  already  tried.  .  .  . 

"  We  hold  the  pastor  of  this  church,  as  we  and  all  others  are 
bound  to  hold  him,  innocent  of  the  charges  reported  against  him 
until  substantiated  by  proof."  The  time  within  which  such 
charges  should  be  preferred  was  limited  to  sixty  days. 

This  tribunal  was  thereafter  appointed,  and  waited  a  year. 
It  is  perhaps  needless  to  say  that  no  charges  were  preferred. 

In  the  closing  addresses  of  the  council  to  the  church  the 
speakers  expressed  more  freely  the  prevailing  personal  feeling. 

We  quote  Dr.  Wellman,  the  first  speaker  : 

"  I  would  not  depreciate  at  all  the  intense  interest  with  which 
many  of  us,  strangers  to  the  pastor,  have  looked  upon  him,  and 
watched  him,  and  heard  him  as  he  has  appeared  before  us  and 
addressed  us.  But  while  I  say  that,  I  must  say,  for  one,  that  I 
watched  with  still  keener  interest  the  men  associated  with  him, 
and  who  came  upon  this  platform  to  present  this  case — the  mem- 
bers of  the  Plymouth  Church  Investigating  Committee.  And 
why  have  I  watched  these  men  with  such  intense  interest  ?  Now, 
all  men  know  the  power  of  this  man  of  God  to  persuade  men  ; 
and  some  of  us,  who  live  far  away,  have  been  told  again  and  again, 
that  this  pastor  had  such  persuasive  power,  that  he  could  man- 
age all  his  men  here,  and  make  them  believe  anything  and  do 
anything,  and  therefore  it  did  not  follow  that,  because  this  great 
church  and  people  were  so  loyal  to  their  pastor,  that  he  was  an  in- 
nocent and  pure  man.  Now,  your  loyal  and  magnificent  devotion 
to  your  pastor,  is  your  praise  all  over  this  land  and  all  over  this 
world.  We  had  not  seen  you  ;  we  did  not  know  what  kind  of  men 
were  associated  with  this  man  of  God  ;  and  it  was  possible,  we 
thought,  that  they  were  weak  men,  who  could  be  blinded  and 
could  be  made  to  believe  anything.     I  have  watched  these  men. 


HENRY   WARD   BEECH ER 


55' 


and  1  aver  to-night  that  they  are  not  nun  of  feeble  mind,  and 
not  men  who  would  have  an  impure  pastor  here  if  they  knew  it, 
and  Dot  men  to  be  managed  by  any  pastor  ;  and  it  has  been  the 

joy  of  my  heart  to  find  that  such  men  have  been  associated,  dur- 
ing these  years  of  your  darkness  and  sorrow,  with  this  man  of 
God. 

"  It  has  been  said  that  this  pastor  is  managing  this  council. 
Somehow  people  all  over  the  world  have  great  confidence  in  the 
managing  power  of  this  man.  So  far  as  I  can  see,  he  is  the  very 
last  man  to  manage  anybody  ;  and  as  to  his  managing  this  coun- 
cil, I  wish  to  say  here  and  now,  once  for  all,  and  I  wish  it  to  go 
through  you  to  all  the  world,  that  he  has  managed  us — just  as 
that  man  going  down  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho,  and  robbed,  and 
stripped,  and  wounded  and  thrown  aside  and  left  half-dead,  man- 
aged that  other  man  who  came  to  his  distress  and  bent  over  him 
and  poured  oil  upon  his  wounds  and  dressed  them,  and  took  him 
up  and  brought  him  to  the  inn  and  cared  for  him.  So  this  man 
has  managed  us,  and  in  no  other  way.  I  had  no  acquaintance 
with  him  ;  I  never  spoke  to  him  until  the  last  week  ;  but,  coming 
here,  I  have  been  greatly  touched — indeed,  nothing  has  touched 
me  more  than  the  manner  in  which  this  pastor  has  laid  bare  his 
heart  to  us,  and  asked  us  to  search  him  through  and  through,  his 
heart  and  his  life,  and  tell  him  if  there  be  anything  wrong  in  him 
or  in  what  he  has  done.  He  has  done  this  again  and  again,  be- 
fore the  council,  and  it  has  made  me  feel,  for  one,  that  there  was 
no  need  of  searching  such  a  man.  I  have  noticed  repeatedly, 
during  the  presentation  of  this  case,  that  the  pastor  of  this  church 
seemed  to  be  living  two  kinds  of  lives,  one  a  sad  one,  and  the 
other  a  life  of  earnest  duty.  Underneath  his  work  and  his  ad- 
dresses to  us,  there  came  out  every  now  and  then  a  sad  under- 
tone, as  if  he  felt  that  he  must  live  and  toil  for  all  the  rest  of  his 
life,  under  this  dark  cloud  of  suspicion  and  constant  misrepresen- 
tation, and  with  these  constant  dagger-rents  in  his  heart.  Now,  I 
do  not  believe  that  he  is  to  live  the  rest  of  his  life  under  this 
cloud  and  this  burden  of  trouble.  Ever  since  this  council  was 
by  itself,  I  have  seen  out  of  all  this  darkness  a  bright  morning 
coming,  and  never  has  that  morning  seemed  so  near  and  so  close 
as  it  does  to-night." 

And  from  the  address  of  Dr.  Sturtevant,  president  of  Illinois 
College  ; 


552  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"*  What  now  are  we  to  expect  ?  What  is  to  be  the  result  of 
this?  This  :  Brother  Beecher  and  his  church  are  to  be  assured 
from  this  hour  that  they  have  our  confidence.  He  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  innocent  until  charges  of  guilt  have  been  tabled  and 
substantiated — not  floating  rumors,-  not  the  slime  of  the  crawling 
serpent,  but  charges  clear,  definite,  with  all  needed  specifications 
of  names  and  dates  and  witnesses,  charges  behind  which  there 
stands  a  responsible  endorser  ;  and  while  he  stands  thus,  we  ex- 
tend to  him  the  hand  of  our  hearty  fellowship,  and  entire  con- 
fidence, until  those  charges  are  tabled  and  established.  That 
confidence  begins  here  and  now  ;  and  it  enables  him  to  say,  and 
his  people  to  say  :  '  All  these  rumors,  these  innuendoes,  these 
floating  stories  that  circulate  through  the  press,  and  through  the 
ten  thousand  channels  in  which  rumor  flows,  are  worthy  of  no 
account  until  they  are  backed  by  responsible  men,  who  are  will- 
ing to  face  that  commission,  and  to  attempt  to  prove  those 
charges  before  that  commission  ;  and  if  men  continue  to  rail  and 
continue  to  tell  horrible  stories  of  what  they  know,  how  it  was 
ten  years  ago,  and  seven  years  ago,  and  five  years  ago,  etc.,  and 
what  this  man  said  and  what  that  woman  said — if  they  continue 
to  say  such  things,  believe  them  not.  They  are  just  as  respec- 
table as  Shimei  was,  when  he  went  along  the  hill  and  cursed 
David/  " 

From  parts  of  Mr.  Beecher's  address  to  the  council  at  the 
close,  after  the  "  result  "  had  been  announced,  we  get  a  clearer 
insight  of  his  feelings,  and  of  his  life  during  these  troublesome 
times,  than  from  most  anything  else  that  he  has  uttered  : 

"  It  has  come  to  pass  that  for  so  many  years  I  have  read  of 
myself  and  heard  of  myself,  that  I  have  ceased  in  some  moods  to 
have  any  actual  self,  and  am  projected  as  an  idea  before  my  own 
mind.  And  if  I  shall  therefore  speak  somewhat  freely,  after  the 
manner  of  men,  about  myself,  I  wish  you  to  consider  it  a  part  of 
those  metaphysics  which  Dr.  Porter  says  are  very  bad.  I  have 
often  read  as  if  I  were  reading  in  a  novel  about  the  bad  hero,  and 
waked  up  from  the  dream  and  grimly  laughed  as  I  asked  myself  : 
1  Is  it  me  that  they  mean?  Is  it  possible  for  a  man  to  live  as  long 
as  I  have,  and  as  openly,  and  to  have  acted  upon  so  large  a  thea- 
tre, and  been  agitated  by  such  world-shaking  events,  and  be  so 
utterly  misconceived  ? '  I  have  had  the  reputation  of  being  a 
frank  man.     But  it  may  be  true  that  I  am  a  man  of  very  cautious 


REV.  ///  \.v)    ward  BEECHER.  553 

speech,  and  may  therefore  sometimes  not  have  expressed  mysell 
intelligently,  though  at  other  times  I  have  had  the  reputation  of 
being  able  to  make  myself  understood  !  \Y\  ertheless  it  has  1  ome 
to  pass  that  I  supposed  myself  to  have  been  more  thoroughly  can- 
vassed, and  construed  in  no  very  enviable  light,  than  it  lias  befall- 
en to  any  of  my  contemporaries.  I  am  very  Borry  that  it  should 
e  so.  1  have  no  love  of  being  a  hero,  and  I  have  still  less  of 
:ing  such  a  hero  as  I  have  been  made  to  be.  1  tell  you  that  to 
jar  men  talking  whether  I  am  or  am  not  guilty  makes  the  very 
..other-thought  shiver  within  me.  For  I  have  sensibility — I  am 
open  to  the  keenest  sense  of  truth  and  purity,  and  honor  and 
right;  and  to  be  held  before  a  jury,  and  to  sit  six  long  months,  and 
to  have  rained  upon  me  perjury  and  professional  abuse,  and  to 
feel  that  over  the  whole  broad  extent  of  this  land,  I  was  the  focal 
point  on  which  journalism  was  expending  itself,  and  that,  too,  not 
as  to  whether  I  was  Republican  or  Democrat,  not  whether  I  was 
orthodox  or  heterodox,  not  whether  this  or  that  system  expound- 
ed was  rightly  held,  but  whether  I  was  an  ineffable  culprit  !  I 
have  not  been  hunted  as  an  eagle  is  hunted  ;  I  have  not  been 
pursued  as  a  lion  is  pursued ;  I  have  not  been  pursued  even  as 
wolves  and  foxes.  I  have  been  pursued  as  if  I  were  a  maggot  in  a 
rotten  corpse.  And  do  you  suppose  that  it  is  in  human  nature  to 
go  through  that,  through  months  and  through  years,  and  not  feel 
it  ?  And  yet,  if  it  please  God,  who  has  enabled  me  to  go  through 
the  desert  and  the  Red  Sea,  that  I  should  go  on,  God  is  my 
judge,  that  I  am  both  willing  and  I  am  able  to  go  on  again  an- 
other five  years  ;  for  I  can  do  all  things,  Christ  strengthening  me, 
and  the  life  that  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  faith  in  the  Son 
of  God,  who  loved  me  never  so  much  as  now. 

"  At  some  time  it  may  be  in  my  power  to  defend  myself  on 
every  count  and  charge.  It  may  be  in  my  power,  at  some  time, 
with  dates  and  circumstances  to  expound  the  reason  of  my  con- 
duct. I  am  the  child  of  a  noble  mother  and  of  a  noble  father, 
and  I  was  brought  up  in  an  austere  morality  and  in  a  pure  and 
unblemished  household,  with  a  most  reverent  honor  for  truth,  for 
duty,  for  love.  And  to  me  has  been  given  a  nature  for  which, 
whether  it  be  prudent  or  whether  it  be  not,  I  am  not  question- 
able. When  they  rebuke  the  vine  for  throwing  out  tendrils  and 
holding  on  to  anything  that  is  next  to  it,  whether  it  be  homely  or 
handsome,  whether  it  be  dry  or  full  of    sap,  then  they  may  re- 


554  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

buke  me.  When  you  shall  find  a  heart  to  rebuke  the  twining 
morning-glory,  or  any  other  plant  that  holds  on  to  that  which  is 
next  to  it,  you  may  rebuke  me  for  misplaced  confidence  ;  you 
may  rebuke  me  for  loving  where  I  should  not  love.  It  is  not  my 
choice  ;  it  is  my  necessity.  And  I  have  loved  on  the  right  and 
on  the  left,  here  and  there,  and  it  is  my  joy,  that  to-day  I  am  not 
ashamed  of  it.  I  am  glad  of  it,  and  if  I  had  my  life  to  live  over 
again,  and  were  to  choose  between  a  cold  caution,  calculating 
every  step,  without  trust  and  confidence  in  man,  I  would,  with 
all  its  liabilities,  choose  to  be  generous,  to  be  magnanimous,  and 
to  be  trustful,  and  to  lean  though  some  should  step  aside  and 
let  me  fall  to  the  ground.  And  let  me  say  further  that  I  was 
brought  up  in  a  household  where  the  name  of  woman  was  only 
next  to  the  name  of  saint,  and  with  good  reason  I  always  thought 
it  should  stand  there.  The  memory  of  my  mother  has  been  to 
me,  what  the  Virgin  Mary  has  been  to  a  devotee  of  the  Roman 
Church.  She  has  been  part  and  parcel  of  my  upper  life — a  star 
whose  parallax  I  could  not  take,  but  nevertheless,  shining  from 
afar,  she  has  been  the  light  that  lit  me  easier  into  the  thought  of 
the  invisible  and  the  presence  of  the  Divine.  My  sisters  I  need 
not  speak  of.  My  associations  have  been  with  women  who  have 
left  upon  my  mind  an  indelible  impression  of  honor,  of  rever- 
ence, and  of  affection  ;  and  all  that  I  have  gone  through,  and  all 
that  I  have  suffered  at  the  hands  of  those  that  are  of  another 
school,  has  not  changed,  nor  in  the  slightest  degree  blurred,  the 
sense  that  I  have  of  the  dignity  and  the  sacredness  and  the 
beauty  of  womanhood.  And  when  I  have  stood  upon  the  thresh- 
old of  what  seemed  to  me — knowing  the  secret  elements  that 
were  in  it,  and  how  a  cloud  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand  might 
roll  up  and  cover  the  whole  heaven — when  I  have  stood  and 
looked  out  upon  what  might  come,  what  misery  might  be,  I  have 
said,  and  God  knows  the  sincerity  and  the  depth  of  it,  'It  is  bet- 
ter for  me — if  it  be  possible — it  is  better  for  me  to  stand,  and  be 
misunderstood  than  that  there  should  be  suffering  over  so  wide 
a  circle,'  as  I  believed  there  would  be.  And  that  there  have  been 
so  many  heart-aches,  that  there  have  been  so  many,  whose  faces 
I  never  saw,  that  have  been  bathed  in  tears,  that  there  has  been 
even  the  eclipse  of  faith  that  has  been  mentioned  in  many,  only 
shows  how  much  would  have  been  saved  to  humanity,  if  it  had 
been  possible  that  that  policy  of  suffocating  a  domestic  trouble, 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECH  BR,  555 

and  keeping  it  in  the  origin  of  it,  had  been  followed  out  and  hon- 
orably observed.     The  fire,  that  at  the  first  is  only  so  much  that 

you  can  stamp  it  out,  may,  by  fanning  winds  or  rc<  klcss  hands,  be 
spread  beyond  your  reach,  and  the  whole  city  deluged  with  flame, 

the  whole  prairie  be  sheeted  with  fire.  That  which,  in  its  be- 
ginning, seems  quite  manageable,  it  seems  to  me  policy  not  only, 
but  duty,  to  suppress  and  maintain  in  its  seclusion  ;  for  if  it 
bursts  out  it  will  know  no  bounds  and  no  termination.  The  en- 
deavor I  do  not  regret  ;  the  ill  success  of  it  I  do. 

"  But  having  gone  through  it  all,  my  only  question — that  is, 
my  only  deepest  question — is,  Has  it  wrenched  you  from  the 
foundations  of  a  true  manhood  ?  Do  you  believe  in  God  ?  Do 
you  trust  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?  Do  you  live  by  the  commu- 
nications of  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  Is  the  higher  part  of  your  nature 
in  commerce  with  God  ?  I  look  around  among  men  and  I  say, 
Has  it  made  you  hating  ?  Has  it  made  you  jealous  ?  Has  it 
made  you  a  misanthropist  or  a  misogynist?  Are  you  sound — 
sound  in  your  chest,  sound  in  your  heart  ?  Are  you  a  man  ?  Do 
you  love  men  ?  Do  you  trust  men  ?  Do  you  honor  women  ? 
Do  you  trust  them  ?  Are  you  willing  to  labor  for  them  ?  Are 
you  willing  to  suffer  for  them  ?  I  think  I  may  say,  without  any 
fear,  I  do  believe  that  I  live  in  the  Spirit  of  God  and  very  near  to 
Him,  and  in  regard  to  my  feelings  toward  mankind  there  does 
not  live  the  man  on  the  face  of  this  earth  that  I  would  harm  if  I 
had  him  in  my  power.  There  is  not  that  human  creature — I 
know  it — there  is  not  that  human  creature  that  lives,  that  I  would 
not  rather  help  than  hurt.  There  is  not  that  creature  that  lives 
for  whom  I  would  not  bear  suffering,  if  I  could  save  him  from 
greater  suffering.  I  have  tried  to  live  in  the  spirit  of  Christ,  who 
wrought  our  joy  by  His  sorrow,  who  saved  us  by  sacrificing 
Himself.  I  have  endeavored  to  so  live.  And  now  let  me  say 
further  than  this,  that  while  I  make  these  asseverations  of  the 
honesty  of  my  intent,  and  while  I  mean  to  convey,  in  the  strong- 
est language,  my  consciousness  of  innocence  and  rectitude,  and 
honor  and  purity,  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  have  always 
been  wise,  and  still  less  that  I  should  advise  another  to  at- 
tempt to  walk  the  path  that  I  have  walked,  or  that  I  have  al- 
ways kept  my  temper,  or  that  I  have  always  restrained  my 
tongue.  These,  which  I  will  not  call  infirmities,  if  you  please  to 
call  them  wrongs  or  sins — name  them  yourselves,  and  I  will  still 


556  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

excel  you  in  condemning,  in  myself,  anything  that  has  been  less 
than  the  straight  line  of  sweetness,  and  of  meekness,  and  of  gen^ 
tleness.  I  do  condemn  myself  often  that  I  am  rash,  that  in  an 
over-heat  I  said  things  I  ought  not  to  have  said,  and  I  am  the 
more  concerned,  when  I  learn  that  these  words  are  not  merely  a 
rhetorical  fault,  nor  regarded  simply  as  a  blur  upon  me,  but  that 
they  go  like  poisoned  arrows  and  afflict  other  hearts  ;  and  if  there 
is  any  word  that  I  have  said,  that  has  hurt  the  pastors  of  near 
churches,  or  churches  afar  off,  I  would  to  God  that  I  could  so 
utterly  recall  it,  that  they  should  never  think  of  it  again  ;  and  I 
would  be  the  first  of  all  to  humble  myself  before  them,  and  crave 
that  pardon  of  them,  which  I  have  asked  before  of  God.  And  if 
that  which  I  have  said  or  done  is  a  hindrance  to  a  full  reconcilia- 
tion, I  would  to  God  that  all  the  waters  of  the  Jordan  might  wash 
it  out  from  every  memory.  I  disown  it  and  take  it  all  back,  and 
beseech  of  you,  as  I  beseech  of  every  other  one,  to  remember  of 
me,  only  those  things  that  are  like  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  that 
by  His  grace  I  have  been  enabled  to  do  rightly.  I  am  discharged 
of  all  jealousy.  I  have  no  pride  that  hinders  me  from  saying 
these  things  to  you,  and  giving  you  leave  to  give  to  them  the  ut- 
most latitude  in  their  application. 

"  Allusion  has  been  made  to  sadness  on  my  part,  of  which  no 
man  may  know.  For  whatever  may  be  the  range  of  a  man's  out- 
ward life,  there  is  a  world  within,  unknown  to  any  but  God,  and 
the  most  vital  part  of  every  man's  life,  is  that  which  is  within  the 
crystal  cave  of  his  own  silence  and  secrecy  ;  and  of  that  I  do  not 
propose  to  speak  any  further  than  this — that  I  have  often  felt 
that  my  life  had  come  very  near  to  its  end.  I  live  in  the  shadow 
of  that  feeling  every  day.  At  some  hour  or  other  of  every  day, 
it  seems  to  me  as  though  but  a  hand's  breadth  was  between  me 
and  the  New  Jerusalem.  It  is  not  either,  necessarily  a  desire  for 
dying  nor  an  expectation  of  dying  ;  it  is  a  sentiment.  And  I  live 
very  much  in  that  habit  ;  not  altogether  a  painful  one — often  far 
from  it.  But  this  I  have  felt  in  looking,  back  in  those  moments 
upon  my  past  life — I  have  felt  a  great  joy  that  no  man  can  take 
it  from  me.  I  lived  when  the  reformation  of  intemperance  first 
began,  and  I  gave  great  time  and  strength  to  recover  my  coun- 
trymen from  the  vice.  I  began  early  my  career,  when  there  were 
few  to  plead  for  the  liberty  of  the  slave.  I  have  lived  in  a  mi- 
nority all  my  days,  contesting  for  the   right  and  for  liberty.     I 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  557 

had  the  privilege  of  living  through  that  glorious  revolutionary 
fpoch  of  our  time,  when  the  political  economy,  and  the  politics, 
and  the  constitutional  elements  of  our  land  were  regenerated. 

Few  men  have  ever  had  such  a  chain  e,  or  the  health,  or  the  op- 
portunity to  put  in  labor,  in  a  field  so  rich  in  future  results.  No 
man  can  take  it  from  me  that  I  have  Loved  my  country  and  that 
1  have  labored  for  her.  No  man  can  take  it  from  me  that  I  have 
loved  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  and  that  I  have  labored  for  it. 
No  man  can  take  it  from  me  that  I  have  loved  my  kind  without 
caste  or  distinction.  No  man  can  take  it  from  me  !  Now,  I  do 
not  care  for  my  reputation  after  I  am  dead  and  gone.  That  kind 
of  love  of  reputation  I  never  had,  but  there  is  something  that  is 
to  me  as  sweet  as  the  bells  of  heaven.  If  I^have  been  able  to  in- 
ject into  the  literature  of  my  time  a  truly  sweet  and  Christian 
spirit  ;  if  I  have  been  able  to  clothe  nature  so  that  children  and 
women  and  grown  people  will  have  associations  with  trees  and 
clouds,  with  the  ground,  with  all  the  processes  of  annual  resusci- 
tation ;  if  I  have  been  able  to  clothe  t-hem  with  religious  associa- 
tions, so  that  the  heavens  declare  again  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
earth  His  handiwork  ;  if  I  have  put  into  words  that  which  will 
cheer  the  sick  and  the  poor,  that  will  inspire  the  young,  and  that 
will  go  on  working  after  I  am  dead — this  has  been  a  very  sustain- 
ing and  a  very  comforting  thought  to  me.  There  is  my  joy  for 
posterity — that  when  by  and  by  the  clouds  are  all  gone,  wrhen 
by  and  by  the  truth  is  as  much  known  as  the  earth  will  ever 
know  truth,  that  which  I  have  done  will  stand,  that  which  I  am 
God  will  know,  and  cause  it  to  stand  for  ever  and  ever." 

We  give  some  extracts  from  his  diary,  and  from  letters  written 
near  this  time,  which  show  how  he  looked  upon  the  past  few 
years  : 

"  I  have  never  read  or  heard  of  an  instance  where  a  pastor  was 
called  to  carry  forward  a  great  church  under  such  a  pressure  as  I 
have.  Whatever  is  deepest,  tenderest,  and  best  in  manhood  has 
been  crucified  with  a  prolonged  crucifixion.  I  have  seen  the  poi- 
sonous malaria,  affecting  my  reputation  in  the  whole  community 
where  I  have  dwelt  for  so  many  years  with  an  unblemished  char- 
acter. I  have  seen  false  brethren  silently  bringing  to  bear  upon 
me  the  odium  of  the  most  damaging  suspicions.  I  have  seen  them 
secretly  taking  counsel  together,  tampering  with  the  fidelity  of  the 
members  of  Plymouth  Church,  and  seducing  my  personal  friends, 


558  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

violating,  under  false  pretences,  ecclesiastical  good  neighborhood, 
calling  councils  to  interfere  with  the  peace  and  harmony  of  Ply- 
mouth Church,  and  thus  spreading  a  local  scandal  and  a  ruinous 
suspicion  over,  literally,  the  wide  world.  From  this  persecution 
among  false  brethren  the  trouble  broke  out  into  public  and  pro- 
longed trial  by  the  newspapers  of  the  country. 

"  With  a  few  honorable  exceptions,  the  religious  press  was 
quick  to  believe  evil  and  to  confirm  suspicion,  and,  with  a  few 
equally  honorable  exceptions,  the  secular  press  joined  my  adver- 
saries. 

"  I  was  next  tried  by  my  own  church,  and  after  a  minute  re- 
search, and  upon  grounds  never  controverted  or  undermined,  I 
was  acquitted  and  justified.  For  six  months  thereafter  I  was  sub- 
jected to  the  disgrace  of  sitting  before  a  court  of  justice  and  having 
every  atom  of  evidence  admitted  that  money  and  malice  could 
bring  together.  And  after  this  long  and  weary  trial  the  jury  re- 
fused to  grant  to  my  enemy  the  verdict  which  he  sought;  where- 
upon my  ministerial  neighbors,  reversing  the  fact  that  the  jury 
refused  him  damages,  reported  that  I  was  not  cleared — as  if  I  had 
gone  into  court  voluntarily,  sought  a  verdict,  and  lost  my  suit. 

"Following  the  civil  trial,  these  insidious  enemies  commenced 
a  course  of  vexatious  attempts  to  call  councils,  and  so  to  weary 
the  patience  of  the  Plymouth- people. 

"To  meet  this  vexatious  proceeding  the  church  called  the 
largest  council  ever  convened  upon  this  continent.  Its  members 
came  almost  to  a  man,  with  doubting  hearts,  but  went  away  with 
enthusiastic  joy,  having  justified  the  church  and  justified  its  pastor. 
But,  perceiving  the  venomous  spirit  that  disguised  itself  under 
pretence  of  anxiety  for  ecclesiastical  regularity,  the  Great  Coun- 
cil provided  a  court  to  sit  and  act  when  the  council  should  be 
dissolved — a  court  composed  of  legal  men,  than  whom  none 
more  impartial,  just,  and  pure  were  ever  called  to  sit  upon  the 
bench.  No  one  dared  to  bring  charges,  though  the  court  waited 
for  years. 

"  In  this  long  and  dreadful  season  it  would  be  difficult  to  say 
which  suffered  most  intensely,  the  church  or  its  pastor. 

"  No  one  will  ever  know  the  nervous  strain  required  to  bear 
this  terrible  pressure,  to  maintain  a  Christian  spirit,  to  carry  on 
my  pulpit  duties,  and  to  encourage  and  sustain  the  spirit  of  the 
church." 


KEl'.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER.  559 

N<  i\  EMBER,   1  S 7 5 . 

"Nov.  12,  Friday  morning. — For  several  years  I  have  been 

passing  through  severe  trials  on  account  of  the  troubles  in  the 
Tilton  family.  This  has  taken  hold  upon  the  chureh,  personal 
friends,  family,  newspapers,  civil  courts,  ecclesiastical  bodies,  etc. 
1  have  thus  been  like  a  lamb,  not  before  her  shearers,  but  before 
a  fire,  every  Stick  of  which  has  had  enough  heat  in  it  to  con- 
sume one's  peace  and  comfort.  In  all  this  six  years  J  have  laid 
down  for  myself  the  strictest  adherence  to  Christian  principles, 
in  all  my  feelings  toward  each  person  or  party  concerned,  and 
upon  my  conduct  in  every  part  of  the  perplexing  and  exhausting 
struggle  for  life — for  my  life  is  aimed  at,  and  the  struggle  is  for 
life,  in  every  sense  in  which  life  is  a  blessing." 

li  Tuesday,  Nov.    23,    1875. — H called    from    Missionary 

Association  to  inquire  what  I  thought  of  their  asking  Dr. 
Storrs  to  speak  at  opening  of  Fisk  University  at  Nashville. 
Replied,  No  reason  against,  unless  they  thought  that  just  at  this 
time,  when  he  heads  and  inspires  a  movement  against  Plymouth 
Church  and  me.     But  that  they,  and  not  I,  should  determine. 

"  In  myself  there  are  two  thoughts  :  (1)  Should  I  give  help  to 
an  enemy  who  will  use  it  for  my  harm  ?  and  (2),  and  a  better  one, 
Ought  I  to  take  any  care  or  notice  of  the  ascent  or  descent  in 
influence  of  one  not  friendly  ?  Is  it  not  better  to  go  on  doing 
duty  and  leave  wholly  to  the  Over-ruler  the  disposition  of 
affairs  ? 

"  '  Fret  not  thyself  because  of  evil-doers'  " 

Shortly  after  the  council  had  adjourned,  and  on  the  27th  of 
February,  1876,  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon,  in  that  spirit  of  brotherly 
love  that  filled  the  council  at  its  close,  wrote  to  Mr.  Beecher  : 

".  .  .  'A  brother  offended,'  whether  Storrs  (R.  S.)  or  Bud- 
ington,  '  is  harder  to  be  won  than  a  strong  city.'  But  is  it  not 
possible  for  you  (God  helping  you)  to  win  Brother  Storrs,  and 
then  to  win  Budington  also  ? 

"  Of  course  you  are  an  innocent  man,  grievously  calumniated, 
pierced  through  and  through  wTith  arrows,  like  St.  Sebastian. 
You  feel  that  the  position  of  those  two  brethren  in  relation  to 
you  is  unbrotherly  and  unkind.  You  complain  (and,  I  will  say, 
reasonably)  that  neither  of  them  came  to  you  in  the  beginning 
of  these  troubles,  or  has  come  to  you  at  any  later  time,  with  a 


560  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

request  for  explanation  or  with  offers  of  sympathy  and  assist- 
ance. They,  on  the  other  hand,  think  that  you  have  withheld 
your  confidence  and  have  stood  aloof  from  them.  ...  Is  it  not 
possible  for  you  to  win  Storrs  ?  .  .  .  You  will  not  win  him  by 
waiting  till  he  shall  come  to  you.  .  .  .  What,  then,  would  be 
the  effect  on  Brooklyn,  on  our  country,  on  '  English-speaking 
Christianity,'  if  it  should  be  announced  that  you  three  are 
■  brothers  reconciled  '  ?  Have  I  proposed  an  impracticable  thing  ? 
Am  I  imagining  an  impossible  result  ?  If  so,  alas  !  .  .  ." 
To  this  Mr.  Beecher  replied  : 

"  Brooklyn,  March  1,  1876. 
"  My  dear  Doctor  Bacon  : 

"  I  heartily  thank  you  for  your  letter  and  its  kind  and  Chris- 
tian suggestions.  They  are  such  as  a  father  might  give  to  a  son, 
and  I  am  emboldened  to  hope  that  for  my  father's  sake  you  will 
allow  me  to  hold,  in  some  degree,  such  a  relation  to  you. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  my  heart  to  prevent  a  reconciliation  with 
my  offended  brethren. 

"  If  it  required  only  that  I  should  express  my  regret  for  unan- 
swered letters,  and  my  sorrow  for  harsh  words  forced  from  me  in 
the  height  of  distress,  the  whole  matter  might  be  settled  in  an  hour. 
But  it  has  largely  ceased  to  be  a  personal  affair,  and  has  assumed 
the  complex  character  of  two  -parties  with  strong  party  feeling. 

"  So  that  Dr.  Storrs,  for  instance,  is  not  at  liberty  to  act  from 
personal  considerations  alone. 

"  Pass  by  his  long  and  repeated  interviews  with  Mr.  Tilton  as 
late  as  last  New  Year's,  and  take  the  most  recent  case,  that  of 
Mrs.  Moulton. 

"  Mrs.  M.  and  I  are  in  such  opposition  as  admits  of  no 
middle  ground.  To  take  her  up  is  to  take  sides  against  me.  Our 
testimony  in  court  is  in  deadly  opposition. 

"  But  Dr.  Storrs  has  assumed  her  cause  to  the  extent,  that, 
(aside  from  all  counsel  during  her  negotiations  with  Plymouth 
Church)  he  sends  her  to  Mr.  Bell  (who  has  just  taken  charge  of 
the  Mission  Sabbath-school  of  his  church),  with  a  letter  request- 
ing him  to  give  her  a  class.  Such  an  act,  at  such  a  time,  produced 
profound  impressions,  even  more  within  his  own  church  than 
out  of  it.  After  two  Sundays'  attendance  Mrs.  Moulton  retired 
from  the  school  under  plea  of  ill  health,  a  great  excitement  hav- 
ing arisen  within  the  school. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  56 1 


"Dr.  Storrs  is  surrounded  bj  such  men  as ,  ,  , 

and  ,  whose  animosity  reaches  bitterness. 

"I  have  very  little  hope,  therefore,  of   favorable  results. 

"  Win  should  be  aware  that  from  time  to  time  during  the  two 
two  vears  past,  I  have  conveyed  to  these  brethren  my  desire  of 
reconciliation. 

"  After  the  civil  suit  of  last  summer  I  drew  up  a  letter  to  Dr. 
Storrs  at  the  request  of  several  members  of  his  church  (warm 
friends  of  mine),  in  which  1  expressed  everything  which  one  Chris- 
tian gentleman  could  to  another.  But  my  advisers  said  that  such  a 
letter  should  not  be  sent  until  it  was  distinctly  ascertained  that 
Dr.  S.  would  take  it  kindly  ;  for,  if  disposed  to  do  so,  it  might 
lay  the  foundations  for  a  refusal  with  reasons,  which  would  leave 
the  case  far  worse  than  it  was  before.  As  the  summer  vacation 
was  at  hand,  the  matter  was  dropped. 

"  I  fear  that  Dr.  Storrs  is  so  fully  committed  that  it  is  too 
late.  He  could  not  have  made  a  declaration  of  war  more  effect- 
ually than  by  taking  up  Mrs.  Moulton,  considering  her  deadly 
antagonism  to  me  and  her  peculiar  relations  to  Plymouth 
Church. 

"  But  if  the  Lord  will  open  a  way,  you  may  be  sure  that  I 
shall  not  hold  back  nor  hesitate.  I  do  not  regard  my  own  per- 
sonal feelings  or  interests  as  comparable  to  the  welfare  of  these 
neighboring  churches,  and  the  cause  of  religion  in  all  churches. 
I  would  go  to  the  very  verge  of  truth  and  honor  in  my  expressions 
of  regret  and  retraction.  Yet,  with  all  this,  I  fear,  alas !  there  is 
no  hope. 

"  But  I  leave  all  to  God.  The  effect  of  a  reconciliation 
would  be  pentecostal. 

"  I  am  the  man  going  to  Jericho,  stripped,  wounded,  and  left 
for  dead.  Nevertheless  I  am  writing  to  apologize  both  to  the 
priest  and  Levite,  for  not  considering  the  proprieties  and  respect 
due  them  as  they  passed  by. 

"  Gratefully  yours, 

"  Henry  Ward  Beecher." 

"  P.S.  I  have  thought  long  and  anxiously  upon  this  matter. 
I  have  sent  friends  to  Dr.  Storrs,  who  could  get  no  wrord  of  en- 
couragement. He  eschews  even  my  personal  friends  who  were 
his  warm  friends. 


562  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  I  have  thought  that  any  movement  with  hope  of  success 
must  come  from  within  his  own  church.  But  there  is  an  un- 
developed party  on  each  side. 

"  On  the  whole,  I  have  come  to  about  this  : 

"  That  the  families  of  the  two  churches  should  hold  on  to 
each  other  more  firmly  than  ever  before,  and  on  both  sides  refuse 
to  be  separated. 

"  Then,  as  time  goes  on  and  the  scandal  gives  place  to  other 
things  in  the  public  mind,  occasions  or  influences  which  we  do 
not  now  command  may  arise  in  God's  good  providence,  and  a 
way  be  opened. 

"  I  have  often  and  often  thought  that  if  it  were  God's  will 
that  I  might  die,  a  great  stumbling-block  would  be  taken  away, 
and  health  would  come  out  of  my  grave  to  the  ailing  hearts 
about  me. 

"  And  why  not  ? 

"  I  have  lived  long,  and  no  one  ever  had  leave  to  live  in  an 
age  of  such  opportunities,  as  those  who  have  had  their  prime  in 
the  past  thirty  years.     One  ought  not  to  be  greedy  of  years." 

The  hope  in  which  the  Great  Council  was  called  was  realized. 
The  pastors  and  delegates,  called  from  twenty-one  States,  return- 
ing to  their  homes,  became  centres  of  a  noble,  generous  influence, 
correcting  false  impressions,  setting  doubts  at  rest,  renewing 
again  the  old  love  and  confidence. 

It  is  true  that  here  and  there,  especially  in  certain  theological 
centres,  there  were  those  whose  partisan  zeal,  jealous  malice,  or 
even  personal  hatred  would  not  let  them  rest  content  with  the 
deliverance  ;  who  would  rather  have  kept  Christendom  deluged 
with  the  vile  mess  than  that  Mr.  Beecher  should  stand  cleared 
and  justified. 

But  the  great  serpent  was  dead  ;  only  its  tail  wiggled  and 
stirred  a  little  dust  for  a  short  time.  After  a  little  even  that  lay 
quiet. 

The  clouds  were  dissipating,  the  sky  was  clearing,  and  soon 
the  sun  shone  with  its  former  brightness,  giving  comfort,  light, 
and  life  to  many  thousands. 

The  conspiracy  had  failed.  Where  to-day  are  the  conspira- 
tors ?  * 

*  A  friend  has  aptly  put  the  story  in  a  few  short  lines  : 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  563 

THE  FALSE  SECRET. 

"  Twas  the  thistle  that  told  the  yellow-bird, 
And  the  yellow-bird  told  the  bee, 
And  the  gossip  winds  that  overheard 

Went  telling  the  willow-tree  ; 
And  that  is  the  way  the  little  tree-frog 

1>  supposed  to  know  it  all  ; 
He  told  his  cousins  that  lived  in  a  bog, 

And  they  croaked  to  the  rushes  tall  ; 
They  whispered  the  reptiles  that  live  in  the  mud. 

And  wiggle  and  creep  and  crawl, 
To  tell  the  mosquitoes  that  feast  on  blood 

That  a  star  was  seen  to  fall. 

"  But  the  lilies  knew  that  it  could  not  be  true, 

The  lilies  that  looked  on  high  ; 
And  the  waters  blue,  where  the  lilies  grew. 

Not  so  the  little  fire  fly  : 
He  met  his  friends  where  the  garden  ends 

And  the  low  marsh  meadows  lie  ; 
They  said  it  was  sad  as  sad  could  be 

That  a  star  must  fall  and  die, 
And  the  goblin  meteors  danced  with  glee — 

But  the  star  is  still  in  the  sky." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Rest  and  renewed  Activity — Lecturing  Tours — Resignation  from  the  Con- 
gregational Association — Boston  Criticisms. 

VERY  shortly  after  Mr.  Beecher  settled  in  Brooklyn  he  began 
working  in  a  somewhat  different  and  larger  parish  than 
the  one  included  in  his  church.  At  first  in  the  more  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  New  York,  then  gradually  widening  and  en- 
larging his  circuit,  he  spent  no  small  portion  of  the  week,  during 
the  winter  months,  in  lecturing.  He  sought  to  elevate  the  public 
morals,  to  educate  public  sentiment  along  the  line  of  integrity 
and  morality.  While  his  lectures  were  full  of  the  humorous, 
alive  with  bright  poetic  thoughts,  there  was  always  a  purpose 
sought  in  each  and  this  always  seemed  essential  to  the  develop- 
ment of  his  best  efforts.  No  lecture  was  ever  delivered  by  him 
that  some  of  his  audience  did  not  go  home  strengthened  and  en- 
couraged in  their  purposes  of  right  living,  or  awakened  to  begin  a 
better  life.  They  were  week-day  sermons  on  practical  morals. 
His  field  had  gradually  broadened,  until  by  1870  it  included  all 
of  the  Northern  States  east  of  the  Mississippi  River.  From  these 
lectures  he  derived  no  inconsiderable  income,  which  was  expend- 
ed with  no  mean  hand  for  charity,  on  friends,  and  the  gratifica- 
tion of  his  artistic  and  literary  tastes. 

With  the  outbreak  of  the  Tilton  conspiracy,  and  the  various 
vexatious  proceedings  incidental  to  and  in  aid  thereof,  he  natu- 
rally found  too  much  employment  at  home,  and  too  great  a  strain 
on  mind  and  body,  to  leave  either  strength,  leisure,  or  inclination 
for  lecturing.  With  the  close  of  the  Great  Council  came  com- 
parative peace,  and  in  the  winter  following  he  resumed  his  regu- 
lar lecturing.     For  this  there  were  several  reasons. 

The  mental  and  nervous  wear  and  tear  of  the  past  five  or  six 
years  had  been  terrible.  As  we  have  seen,  he  had  many  times 
been  brought  to  the  verge  of  complete  prostration,  which  he 
feared  might  end  in  death  or  paralysis. 

It  was  imperative   that  he  should  get  some  relief  from  this 

564 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  505 

strain.  With  him  rest  did  not  mean  idleness,  but  rather  activity 
in  a  different  direction,  often  greater  than  the  work  which  had 
fatigued  him.      Such  a  remedy  he  found  in  lecturing. 

Then  it  was  necessary  to  make  good  the  great  expenditure  of 

money  entailed  upon  him.  The  "trial  year"  alone  had  cost  him 
over  $nS,ooo,  and,  notwithstanding  the  loving  generosity  of  his 
people  had  raised  his  salary  for  that  year  to  $100,000,  he  found 
himself  heavily  in  debt.  Lecturing  afforded  the  means  of  reme- 
dying this  difficulty. 

Another  reason  strenuously  urged  by  friends,  was  that,  to  meet 
and  talk  with  the  many  thousands  scattered  over  the  land,  who 
had  so  long  loved  and  trusted  him,  would  greatly  aid  in  scatter- 
ing the  clouds  that  had  been  so  long  lowering ;  that  it  would  be 
a  source  of  strength  and  comfort  to  them,  and  greatly  benefit 
him.  A  series  of  lecture-tours  followed  during  the  next  two  or 
three  years,  extending  through  the  New  England  States,  West, 
Southwest,  and  South,  the  results  of  which  fully  justified  every 
reason  for  this  undertaking. 

Then  for  the  first  time  he  realized  how  many  friends  he  had. 
It  is  true  that  when  the  sky  was  darkest  he  received  many  hun- 
dreds of  letters  from  friends  and  strangers  expressing  unabated 
confidence  and  sympathy.  Grateful  and  comforting  as  these 
were  to  him,  they  did  not  so  fully  reveal  to  him  the  hold  that  he 
had  on  the  hearts  of  the  American  people  as  the  demonstrations 
that  greeted  him  on  these  lecture-trips. 

What  these  demonstrations  were  we  can  gain  some  idea  from 
his  letters  home,  brief  and  hasty  sketches,  written  at  odd  inter- 
vals : 

"  Next  Boston.  Temple  full.  Received  me  with  prolonged 
clapping.  .  .  .  Preached  Sunday  a.m.  for .  Had  great  lib- 
erty, and,  as  he  says,  swept  everything.  ...  At  night  in  Boston 

for .     Ten  thousand  people  couldn't  get   in.      Shook  hand0 

with  whole  audiences.  Papers  next  morning  with  kind  notices. 
Went  to  Congregational  ministers'  meeting  on  Monday  morning. 
Cheered  and  clapped  when  I  entered.  After  paper  for  day  was 
finished  it  was  moved  that  I  address  the  meeting.  I  did  so,  and 
closed  with  prayer.  All  wept,  and  it  broke  up  like  a  revival 
meeting.     D ,  S ,  A ,*    etc.,  present  ;   did  not  shake 

*  Leaders  among  the  opposition  clergy. 


566  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

hands,  but  scores  of  others  did.  ...  I  learn  that  the  Andover 
students  have  come  back  three  to  one  against  S .  They  in- 
tend asking  me  over  to-morrow  morning  to  talk  to  them.   .  .  ." 

"I  preached  yesterday  in  St.  Paul  (Minn.)  I  returned  early 
this  morning  to  meet  the  clergy  of  this  city  in  Stimpson's  study, 
about  twenty-five,  of  all  churches,  Episcopal,  Presbyterian,  Con- 
gregational, Baptist,  Lutheran,  Free-Will  Baptist,  etc.  Two  hours, 
in  which  they  questioned  me  about  my  views  on  doctrines,  sermon- 
making,  preaching,  etc.,  etc.,  and  at  close  I  prayed  with  them. 
Royal  time.  They  were  mere  than  cordial.  Excitement  for  to- 
night's lecture  even  greater  than  for  that  of  Friday.  Dr.  Post,  of 
St.  Louis,  writes  to  me  to  fill  his  pulpit,  also  the  other  Congrega- 
tional minister  ;  while  the  very  papers  that  used,  a  year  or  two  ago, 
to  abuse  me,  are  demanding  that  the  largest  hall  or  theatre  shall 
be  taken,  so  that  the  common  people  can  get  in." 

"  The  sense  of  spring  has  accompanied  me  all  the  way.  I  am 
now  in  the  middle  of  my  third  week — nearly  half  through.  Laus 
Deo.  Everywhere  the  same  kindness,  affection,  and  enthusiasm. 
Madison  is  the  capital  of  this  State,  and  the  Speaker  and  members 
of  the  Legislature  have  just  sent  a  committee  requesting  me  to 
open  the  house  with  prayer.  ...  In  short,  the  whole  slander  is 
burned  over  out  here,  like  a  prairie  or  an  old  corn-field,  and  will 
never  lift  itself  again." 

"  I  had  not  expected  a  large  audience,  but  I  had  it.  I  ex- 
pected but  few  of  the  upper  class  of  people,  but  I  had  the  best  of 
the  city  ;  even  Watterson,  of  the  Courier- Journal,  that  had  always 
vilely  blackguarded  me,  sent  for  tickets  for  himself,  family,  and 
his  father.  I  was  in  good  trim,  and  for  nearly  two  hours  I 
avenged  myself  upon  that  audience.  The  enthusiasm  was  com- 
plete. Every  one  said  that  I  had  conquered  Louisville,  and  so  I 
am  enjoying  the  fruits  of  revenge!  I  had  an  uncommonly  suc- 
cessful trip.  In  Pittsburgh  there  was  a  grand  audience — all  the 
ministers  from  far  and  near.  It  was  said  that  there  were  a  hun- 
dred in  the  audience." 

"All  my  life  long  I  have  had  good,  warm  friends,  but  I  never 
knew  until  recently  what  friendship  was  outside  of  those  of  my 
own  immediate  circle.  The  unmistakable  enthusiasm,  the  love 
and  eagerness,  the  lingering  and  the  longing,  have  been  such  as 
to  fill  my  cup  full. 

"  I  have  felt,  time  and  again,  that  that  wh'ch  I  have  had  of 


REV,  HENRY  WAND  BEECHER,  567 

trouble  I  have  bought  at  a  cheap  rate  ;  the  trouble  has  been  but 
•  small  price  to  pay  tor  a  lodgment  in  the  hearts  of  the  hot  men, 
the  best  women,  and  the  children.  I  have  found  that  those  whose 
love  is  deepest  and  warmest  represent  families  who  look  at  every- 
thing in  the  world  from  the  standpoint  of  the  household — who 
judge  of  preaching,  of  ethics,  and  of  methods  by  the  relation 
which  they  bear  to  the  bringing  up  of  the  young,  and  to  the 
founding  and  maintaining  of  Christian  homes.  That  part  of  the 
community  who  live  in  the  household,  and  honor  it,  I  had  almost 
said,  were  universally  my  most  dear  and  cordial  friends." 

From  this  time  on  until  his  death  he  was  more  or  less  in  the 
lecture-field  every  year. 

Another  period  of  restful  calm  sets  in,  during  which  he  de- 
voted himself,  comparatively  undisturbed,  to  his  duties  in  the 
pulpit,  the  editorial  chair  of  the  Christian  Union,  and  the  lecture- 
field. 

During  this  period  of  quiet  he  made  those  definite  announce- 
ments of  his  beliefs  that  so  much  disturbed  many  of  his  theolo- 
gical brethren,  notably  his  sermon  on  the  "  Background  of  Mys- 
tery," in  which  he  discussed  that  mysterious  question  of  future 
punishment  ;  and  a  little  later  the  series  since  published  under 
the  title  of  "  Evolution  and  Religion,"  discussing  the  application 
of  the  theory  of  evolution  to  religious  beliefs.*  Notwith- 
standing many  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  American  and 
English  clergy  had  both  entertained  and  expressed  similar 
views,  their  exposition  by  Mr.  Beecher,  as  usual,  called  forth 
much  criticism,  more  or  less  severe  according  to  the  theological 
bent  of  the  critic,  but  also  much  friendly  comment. 

He  was  at  this  time  a  member  of  "The  Congregational  Asso- 
ciation," composed  of  Congregational  clergymen  of  New  York 
and  Brooklyn.  Feeling  that  many  of  his  brethren  did  not  agree 
with  his  views,  and  that  yet  they  might  be  held  to  some  extent 
responsible  for  his  beliefs,  he  determined  to  resign  from  the  As- 
sociation. 

At  the  meeting  October  13,  1882,  he  had  been  assigned  for 
discussion  the  topic  of  "  Spiritual  Barbarism."  After  discuss- 
ing the  theological  beliefs  which   he   regarded  as  appropriately 

*  We  present  Mr.  Beecher's  theological  beliefs  more  fully  in  another 
chapter. 


568  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

coming  under  that  expression,  he  went  on  to  give  a  full  declara- 
tion of  his  personal  beliefs,  and  then  at  the  close  stated  : 

"  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  a  great  many  of  the  brethren 
of  the  Congregational  faith  would  speak  more  than  disapproval, 
and  that  many  even  in  the  Association  to  which  I  belong  feel  as 
though  they  could  not  bear  the  burden  of  responsibility  of  being 
supposed  to  tolerate  the  views  I  have  held  and  taught ;  and  it  is 
on  this  account  that  I,  as  a  man  of  honor  and  a  Christian  gentle- 
man, cannot  afford  to  lay  on  anybody  the  responsibility  of  my 
views.  I  cannot  afford  especially  to  put  them  in  such  a  position 
that  they  are  obliged  to  defend  me.  I  cannot  make  them  re- 
sponsible in  any  way,  and  therefore  I  now  here,  and  in  the  great- 
est love  and  sympathy,  lay  down  my  membership  of  this  Associa- 
tion and  go  forth — not  to  be  separated  from  you.  I  shall  be 
nearer  to  you  than  if  I  should  be  in  ecclesiastical  relation.  I 
will  work  for  you,  I  will  lecture  for  you,  I  will  personally  do 
everything  I  can  for  you.  I  will  even  attend  these  meetings  as  a 
spectator  with  you.  I  will  devote  my  whole  life  to  the  Congre- 
gational churches  and  their  interests,  as  well  as  to  all  other 
churches  of  Christ  Jesus.  I  am  not  going  out  into  the  cold.  I 
am  not  going  out  into  another  sect.  I  am  not  going  away  from 
you  in  any  spirit  of  disgust.  I  never  was  in  warmer  personal 
sympathy  with  every  one  of  you  than  I  am  now  ;  but  I  lay  down 
the  responsibility  that  you  have  borne  for  me — I  take  it  off  from 
you  and  put  it  on  myself.  And  now  you  can  say,  '  He  is  a  mem- 
ber, of  the  Congregational  Church,  but  he  has  relieved  his  breth- 
ren of  all  responsibility  whatever  for  his  teachings.'  That  you 
are  perfectly  free  to  do.  With  thanks  for  your  great  kindness, 
and  with  thanks  to  God  for  the  life  which  we  have  had  here  to- 
gether, I  am  now  no  longer  a  member  of  the  Congregational 
Association  of  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  but  with  you  a  member 
of  the  body  of  Christ  Jesus,  in  full  fellowship  with  you  in  the 
matter  of  faith  and  love  and  hope." 

He  was  earnestly  urged  to  reconsider  his  resignation.  He 
felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  adhere  to  the  determination  expressed. 
The  Association  unanimously  passed  the  following  resolution 
expressive  of  their  feelings  : 

"  Resolved,  That  the  members  of  the  New  York  and  Brook- 
lyn Association  receive  the  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  resigna- 
tion of  his  membership  in  this  body  with  very  deep  pain  and  re- 


A7-r.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  569 

gret     We  cannot  tail  to  recognize  the  generous  magnanimity 

which  lias  Led  him  to  volunteer  this  action,  lest  he  should  seem 
even  indirectly  to  make  his  brethren  responsible  before  the  pub- 
lic  tor   the   support  ot    philosophical  and  theological  doctrines 

wherein  he  is  popularly  supposed  to  differ  essentially  with  those 
who  hold  the  established  and  current  evangelical  faith.  His  full 
and  proffered  exposition  of  doctrinal  views  that  he  has  made  at 
this  meeting  indicates  the  propriety  of  his  continued  membership 
in  this  or  any  other  Congregational  Association.  We  hereby  de- 
clare our  desire  that  he  may  see  his  way  clear  to  reconsider  and 
withdraw  it.  We  desire  to  place  on  record  as  the  result  of  a  long 
and  intimate  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Beecher,  and  a  familiar  ob- 
servation of  the  results  of  his  life,  as  well  as  his  preaching  and 
pastoral  work,  that  we  cherish  for  him  an  ever-growing  personal 
attachment  as  a  brother  beloved,  and  a  deepening  sense  of  his 
worth  as  a  Christian  minister.  We  cannot  now  contemplate  the 
possibility  of  his  future  absence  from  our  meetings  without  a 
depressing  sense  of  the  loss  we  are  to  suffer,  and  unitedly  pledge 
the  hearts  of  the  Association  to  him,  and  express  the  hope  that 
the  day  for  his  return  may  soon  come." 

Of  course  much  comment  followed  this  step — perhaps  more 
marked  among  some  of  the  Boston  clergy  than  elsewhere — and 
in  its  turn  drew  from  Mr.  Beecher  several  characteristic  letters. 
One  to  a  near  friend  : 

"  Don't  be  scared  because  Boston  has  boiled  over ;  it  has  not 
put  the  fire  out. 

"  It  is  amusing  to  see  the  pains  taken  to  prove  that  I  am  of 
no  account,  dead,  useless,  a  castaway.  I  know  that  I  am  dead. 
I  knew  it  twenty  years  ago  ;  I  have  been  certified  of  the  fact 
every  year  since.  I  have  no  influence — I  never  had,  cannot  have; 
a  hundred  fluttering  ministers  are  eager  to  say  so  before  the 
world  !  Well,  what  of  it  ?  The  wild-fowl  return  from  the  north 
as  usual,  winter  comes  on,  the  spring  will  come  in  its  season, 
birds  and  flowers — indeed,  it  does  seem  to  me  that  Nature  cares 
nothing  at  all  for  all  this  squabbling  of  men  !  I  am  astonished 
at  Nature  !  .  .  ." 

Another  in  reply  to  an  invitation  to  answer  his  critics  through 
the  columns  of  the  Boston  Traveller  : 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  letter  and  paper.  I  have  read  the 
somewhat  large  expressions  of  these  many  and  excellent  men  in 


5  JO  RE  V-  HENR  Y   WARD  BEECH ER. 

regard  to  my  orthodoxy,  consistency,  influence,  and  general 
merit,  without  wishing  for  a  moment  to  reply,  as  you  kindly  re- 
quest me. 

"  When  a  dead  man  is  lying  on  the  dissecting-table  under  the 
hands  of  experts,  it  would  be  unbecoming  in  him  to  rise  up  sud- 
denly and  discuss  with  his  surgeons  the  propriety  of  their  meth- 
ods and  the  truth  of  results.  It  is  not  often  that  one  can  see 
himself  as  others  see  him,  and  especially  as  Boston  sees  him,  and, 
more  than  all,  as  Boston  clergymen  see  him.  I  am  reduced  to 
pulp,  but,  thank  Heaven!  not  to  ashes.  When  you  suggest  a  reply 
to  these,  I  am  sure  you  can  have  no  conception  of  the  subdued 
and  enlightened  state  of  my  mind.  I  am  bent  on  improvement. 
Laying  aside  all  my  old  notions  of  my  beliefs  and  of  my  standing, 
I  am  carefully  putting  together  the  real  man  that  I  now  am  taught 
that  I  am.  When  I  get  my  new  personal  identity  together  and 
in  working  shape,  I  intend  to  study  theology  somewhere,  though 
in  my  present  confusion  I  cannot  yet  say  whether  I  shall  study  at 
Andover  or  Boston  ;  New  Haven  is  nearer,  but  Dr.  Smythe  has 
been  settled  there,  and  I  fear  laxity  of  doctrine  in  his  neighbor- 
hood. Princeton  is  not  far  to  the  south. of  me,  but  Dr.  McCosh 
is  a  Christian  evolutionist,  and  it  would  be  folly,  after  what  I 
have  suffered,  to  come  under  the  malarial  influence  of  that  philo- 
sophy. On  the  whole,  I  incline  to  study  at  Park  Street.  But 
wherever  I  may  go  I  am  determined  before  I  die  to  find  a  theolo- 
gy which  will  pass  muster  at  Bangor,  at  Andover,  at  Cambridge, 
at  New  Haven,  at  Princeton,  at  Alleghany,  at  Oberlin,  at  Chica- 
go, and  at  Park  Street. 

"  Then  I  shall  willingly  die." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Attacking  Corrupt  Judges — Interest  in  Political  Questions — Advocating 
Arthur's  Renomination— Opposing  Blaine — Supporting  Cleveland — 
Campaign  of  18S4 — After  the  Battle. 

IT  had  always  been  Mr.  Beecher's  belief  that  a  Christian  gen- 
tleman should  be  a  good  citizen,  and  that  being  a  good  citi- 
zen involved  some  responsibility  in  securing  and  enforcing 
righteous  laws,  in  electing  honest  men,  and  defeating  the  corrupt 
and  unworthy.  With  this  belief  his  whole  life  was  consistent. 
In  his  early  ministry  we  find  him  fighting  corruption,  intoxication, 
and  slavery,  the  then  three  great  public  evils.  Later  he  stood  as 
one  of  the  sponsors  to  the  Republican  party.  In  1856  he  entered 
with  all  his  force  in  the  Fremont  campaign,  and  in  i860  stumped 
the  Middle  and  New  England  States  for  Lincoln.  The  over- 
throw of  slavery  was  his  objective  point — the  one  great  public 
evil  which  at  that  time  overtopped  all  others. 

When,  in  1864,  Lincoln  ran  for  re-election,  he  spared  no  effort 
to  secure  it. 

And  as  he  thought  that  whatever  pertained  to  the  duties  of  a 
Christian  man  might  properly  be  discussed  in  the  pulpit,  he  did 
not  hesitate,  during  those  war  times,  when  the  national  existence 
was  threatened,  to  advocate  the  cause  of  the  nation  and  the 
cause  of  liberty  from  his  pulpit;  at  one  time,  just  before  the 
election  of  1864,  devoting  his  evening  sermon  for  the  six  pre- 
ceding weeks  exclusively  to  the  nation's  cause. 

We  remember  vividly  the  great  throngs  that  packed  the 
church  for  two  hours  before  the  sermon,  many  getting  entrance 
through  the  side  windows,  while  the  street  contained  as  many 
more  trying  in  vain  to  even  reach  the  open  doors. 

We  shall  never  forget  the  thrills  of  excitement  that  ran 
through  the  audience  under  the  influence  of  Mr.  Beecher's  im- 
passioned eloquence.  He  was  thoroughly  aroused,  and  seemed 
to  impart  much  of  the  intensity  of  his  own  feelings  to  his  audi- 
ence.    He  felt  that  to  defeat  Lincoln  then  meant  to  throw  away 


572 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


all  that  had  been  obtained  by  such  a  sacrifice  of  men  and 
money. 

We  are  not  surprised,  then,  in  1868-69 — at  tne  time  when 
the  flood  of  corruption  had  deluged  New  York  city,  reaching 
even  to  the  judges  on  the  bench — that  his  voice  was  raised  in 
continuous  protest  against  that  disgraceful  state  of  affairs,  call- 
ing on  all  good  men  to  unite  and  purge  the  city  of  its  corruption. 
The  attack  from  Plymouth  pulpit  upon  the  corrupt  judiciary, 
especially,  was  unsparing  and  continuous,  sometimes  through 
whole  sermons  and  sometimes  incidentally. 

The  times  we're  in  desperate  need  of  some  bold  moral  surgery, 
for  it  would  be  hard  to  imagine  a  worse  condition  in  the  public 
administration — in  well  nigh  every  department  and  branch — than 
that  which  existed  from  1867  to  1871.  The  infamous  Tweed  had 
assumed  virtually  the  dictatorship,  and  impudently  wanted  to 
know  of  the  people,  "What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?"  A 
query  which  was  fully  answered  a  few  years  later.  But  the  climax 
was  reached  in  the  almost  utter  corruption  of  the  bench.  There 
were  some  honest  judges  in  New  York  then,  but  they  suffered 
from  the  same  imputation  that,  in  more  modern  times,  falls  upon 
any  man  who  has  had  the  misfortune  to  have  been  elected  an 
alderman  of  the  same  city.  Friends  of  some  of  the  judges  were 
rash  enough  to  attempt  an  answer  through  the  public  press  to 
Mr.  Beecher's  attack.  But  this  only  furnished  the  text  for  a 
series  of  more  terrible  denunciations  in  reply,  which  led  to  a 
very  hasty  muzzling  of  the  rash  defenders  of  the  bench.  A  pub- 
lic discussion,  even  in  those  days  of  public  apathy  and  demor- 
alization, was  the  last  thing  that  was  wished  by  the  corruptionists 
whom  he  was  attacking. 

To  a  member  of  the  federal  bench  who  wrote  him,  protesting 
that  there  were  some  honest  judges  who  would  be  injured  by  Mr. 
Beecher's  strictures,  he  replied  : 

"...  Of  the  fourteen  (elective)  judges  of  New  York  there 
are  not  over  five  who  are  not  known  to  be  corrupt — i.  e.,  who  do 
not  employ  their  office  for  the  promotion  of  their  private  interests 
at  the  expense  of  the  public  good — and  hardly  one  of  the  whole 
fourteen  who  is  not  guilty  of  flagrant  nepotism. 

"  Now,  if  clergymen  were  violating  the  vows  of  their  calling 
in  half  that  proportion  they  would  have  no  right  to  complain,  if 
some  judge  declared  '  the  clergy  were  corrupt,'  and  the  judges 


A' B  r.  HENRY  WARD  B £ /  I  HE R.  57 3 

have  no  just  reason  of  complaint,  when  a  ( lergymen  de<  lares  the 

Courts  of    New  York,  to   be  corrupt,  and  that   their  judges  'stink* 

(asking  pardon  of  your  sensibility). 

"If  this  allegation  in  SO  broad  a  form  involves  the  innocent 
alone,  with  the  guilty,  it  is  because  such  is  the  law  of  social  lia- 
bility, .  .  . 

"  If  the  honorable  men  who  are  alive  to  the  purity  of  the  ju- 
dicial reputation  can  find  no  way  of  making  a  public  and  recog- 
ni/ed  distinction  between  themselves  and  their  unworthy  com- 
panions, they  should  not  be  surprised  if  their  own  names  are 
clouded,  too. 

"  In  regard  to  yourself,  personally,  I  have  never  heard  a  whis- 
per of  dishonor,  .  .  .  and  if  you  do  not  receive  the  full  meed  of 
your  desert,  is  it  not  because  you  belong  to  a  profession  which, 
in  New  York  City,  is  earning  itself  an  odious  reputation  ? 

"  I  wish  to  arouse  a  conscience  in  the  community,  outside  of 
courts,  which  will  compel  those  judges  who  are  pure,  and  who 
value  their  reputation,  to  manifest  their  repugnance  at  corrup- 
tion.    I  do  not  mean  to  pause.  .  .  . 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the  frankness  of  your  letter,  and 
none  the  less  because  I  entirely  disagree  with  your  judgment. 

"You  fear  that  such  indiscriminate  censure  will  ruin  the  in- 
fluence of  law  and  courts,  and  demoralize  society. 

"  Bad  laws  and  bad  judges  demoralize  society,  and  not  the  ex- 
posure of  them.  Religion  was  in  no  danger  when  our  Master  de- 
nounced the  priesthood  of  the  temple,  among  whom,  as  with 
judges,  there  were  many  devout  and  pure  men.  He  expressed, 
as  I  do,  the  opinion  of  society  outside  of  the  profession.  The 
exposure  was  a  step  toward  reformation." 

How  far  his  persistent  denunciation  stimulated  and  awakened 
the  public  conscience  and  hastened  the  final  overthrow  of  that 
colossal  reign  of  corruption,  of  course  no  man  can  say.  But  the 
attention  and  excitement  aroused  thereby  indicated  that  his  part 
in  that  strife  was  no  insignificant  one. 

In  his  own  city  he  took  an  active  part  in  the  local  elections, 
working  earnestly  for  the  public  welfare,  striving  to  secure  the 
election  of  those  men  who  would  best  administer  the  local 
government. 

In  the  earlier  years  of  the  Republican  party  questions  vitally 
affecting  the  welfare  of  the  nation,  and  even  its  very  existence, 


574  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

were  before  the  people.  And  on  these  the  Republican  party 
maintained  those  principles,  which  he  believed  were  essential  to 
the  maintenance  of  the  nation.  He  threw  his  entire  strength 
and  influence  with  that  party,  sparing  nothing.  After  the  war 
had  determined  the  questions  of  secession  and  slavery,  and  the 
reconstruction  period  had  past  and  a  sound  financial  policy  been 
established,  he  noticed  with  no  little  disturbance  the  insidious 
growth  of  corrupting  influences  in  various  branches  of  the  gov- 
ernment, and  the  gradually  increasing  prominence  and  influence 
in  the  party's  councils  of  men  who  did  not,  in  his  opinion,  stand 
for  the  highest  principles  of  personal  and  political  honesty.  So 
far  as  he  could  he  sought  to  counteract  this  tendency  downward. 
He  earnestly  supported  the  better  men  in  the  party,  and  tried  to 
prevent  the  dangerous  ones  from  obtaining  power. 

So  long  as  the  high  national  principles  for  which  the  party 
stood  were  in  the  least  in  danger,  and  were  acquiring  a  settled 
permanence,  he  viewed  these  disquieting  signs  as  morbid 
growths  upon  a  body  healthy  in  the  main,  and  which  the  general 
strength  of  the  body  could  throw  off,  like  boils  or  skin  eruptions 
on  a  strong  man — painful  and  unsightly,  but  not  dangerous  to 
life  nor  difficult  to  cure. 

But  as  the  government  became  more  and  more  settled,  and  as 
the  questions  which  called  the  Republican  party  into  existence 
and  which  followed  in  the  reconstructive  period  became  more 
and  more  fixed  facts,  he  noticed  with  increasing  disquietude  that 
the  struggles  at  the  national  election  were  becoming  more  a-  con- 
test for  party  supremacy  than  for  national  security,  where  per- 
sonal benefit  was  rapidly  outstripping  the  country's  welfare.  At 
each  election  the  politicians  on  either  side  found  an  increasingly 
greater  difficulty  in  framing  a  platform  that  should  differ  in  any 
important  particular  from  its  opponent's,  save  on  the  tariff  ques- 
tion, regarding  which  Mr.  Beecher  was  not  in  accord  with  his 
party.  The  party  platforms  were  rapidly  becoming  noticeable 
only  for  the  ingenuity  with  which  the  same  ideas  were  expressed 
in  high-sounding  phrases,  differing  only  in  words. 

Even  as  far  back  as  1877,  in  a  sermon  published  under  the 
title  of  "  Past  Perils  and  Perils  of  To-day,"  he  gave  an  intima- 
tion of  his  growing  feeling,  almost  prophetic  : 

"  The  perils  of  the  hour  are  the  last  that  I  shall  mention,  and 
they  are  the  least.     Whatever  may  betide  the  questions  that  are 


A'frT.  I/EXA'Y   WARD  BEECHEk.  575 

now  at  issue,  they  will  result  in  nothing  worst-  than  simple  tran- 
sient mischief,  moral,  political,  and  civil.  The  foundations  arc- 
settled.  The  future  policy  of  this  nation,  whichever  hands  un- 
dertake to  hold  the  helm,  is  assured.  I  would  rather  that  the 
nation,  which  has  been  rescued  by  the  great  Republican  party, 
and  borne  through  all  the  shoals  and  whirls  and  troubles  of  the 
reconstructive  period,  for  which  they  are  now  receiving  more 
curses  than  kindnesses,  and  whose  mistakes  are  multiplied  before 
the  eyes  of  men,  while  their  wisdom  is  little  thought  of — I  would 
rather  that  this  nation  should  remain  in  their  hands,  if  they  are 
worthy  to  hold  the  helm  ;  but  if  not,  give  me  a  hand  that  can 
hold  the  helm,  whosesoever  it  is.  If  their  light  is  extinguished 
along  the  coast,  and  they  have  no  longer  power  to  guide  the 
ship  of  state  to  a  safe  harbor,  let  other  lights  be  kindled.  We 
cannot  afford  to  wait  for  any  party.  The  nation  is  more  impor- 
tant than  any  party.  It  is  not,  then,  any  particular  peril  of  a 
change  of  administration  that  is  to  be  feared.  I  look  upon  that 
with  interest,  but  still  with  equanimity." 

He  noticed  with  jealous  interest  the  men  who  were  growing 
up  and  pushing  to  the  front  in  the  Republican  party,  studying 
their  characters,  watching  their  actions,  noting  their  words  to  see 
toward  what  they  were  tending,  whether  good  or  evil,  whether 
they  would  be  safe  leaders  and  wise  administrators.  So  that 
when  the  notable  campaign  of  1884  began,  and  the  conventions 
were  called  to  select  the  candidates  for  the  Presidency,  he  had 
very  clearly  defined  opinions  as  to  the  fitness  of  the  various  as- 
pirants in  both  parties,  the  result  of  long  and  careful  observation. 

Of  course  his  first  concern  was  as  to  the  action  of  the  Repub- 
lican party.  He  earnestly  hoped  that  the  party  would  have  the 
wisdom  to  renominate  President  Arthur. 

When  General  Arthur  was  called  to  the  Presidential  chair  by 
the  sad  death  of  General  Garfield,  Mr.  Beecher,  in  common  with 
many  others,  had  grave  misgivings  as  to  his  wisdom  and  ability 
to  administer  so  important  an  office.  But  he  developed  such 
unexpected  administrative  ability,  showed  so  much  wisdom  and 
such  rare  fortitude  in  resisting  his  party's  leaders,  in  any  unwise 
or  hurtful  action,  and  so  much  discrimination  in  the  exercise 
of  his  veto  power,  that  he  won  the  admiration  and  esteem  of 
those  who  had,  with  doubt  and  solicitude,  seen  him  enter  upon 
his  untried  duties. 


576  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Every  instinct  of  good  sense,  every  argument  of  wisdom, 
urged  his  renomination  ;  the  precedents  of  the  party  gave  him  a 
second  term. 

With  this  feeling  Mr.  Beecher  was  fully  in  accord.  So  when 
a  meeting  of  merchants  and  business  men  was  called  at  the 
Cooper  Institute,  early  in  the  summer  of  1884,  to  give  expression 
to  this  sentiment,  Mr.  Beecher  very  gladly  accepted  an  invita- 
tion to  address  it. 

He  had  a  double  reason  in  advocating  General  Arthur's  re- 
nomination,  or  rather  two  reasons,  one  positive  and  the  other 
negative. 

He  had  acquired  great  confidence  in  General  Arthur,  and 
admiration  for  his  past  administration.  He  believed  that  he  was 
by  all  odds  the  best  man  in  his  party  for  the  place. 

He  also  felt  sure  that  if  General  Arthur  was  not  nominated, 
Mr.  Blaine  would  be,  and  in  Mr.  Blaine  he  saw,  as  he  believed,  a 
very  serious  threatening  danger.  He  was  one  of  the  men  whose 
career  he  had  carefully  watched,  and  for  whom  he  had  a  very 
pronounced  distrust.     Of  him  he  said  : 

"  For  twelve  years  I  have  watched  him,  anxious  that  he 
should  be  the  right  man — that  he  is  not.  For  more  than  ten 
years  I  have  been  afraid  of  him." 

Behind  Mr.  Blaine,  as  his  earnest  advocates,  he  saw  the  men 
who  had  been  most  prominent  in  the  jobbery  and  corruption 
that  had,  from  time  to  time,  broken  out  like  plague-spots  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  country. 

He  strongly  felt  that  his  election  would  be  regarded  by  the 
world  at  large  as  an  endorsement  of  the  idea,  painfully  prevalent, 
that  all  a  man  should  aim  at  in  politics  is  success,  no  matter  how. 

He  deeply  regretted  the  unwisdom  of  not  renominating  Gen- 
eral Arthur. 

When  the  National  Convention  put  Mr.  Blaine  in  nomination 
Mr.  Beecher  had  three  courses  left  open  to  him  :  either  (1)  sup- 
port Mr.  Blaine,  as  his  party's  nominee  regularly  presented  by 
the  National  Convention  ;  or  (2)  stay  at  home  and  not  vote  ;  or 
(3)  support  the  opposing  candidate. 

To  the  first  his  answer  was  : 

"  It  is  almost  the  one  argument  I  hear  on  every  hand  :  '  I 
don't  like  Blaine.  He  was  not  my  choice,  but  then  he  is  the 
regular  nominee  of  our  party.' 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER.  577 

"Why,  according  to  your  logic,  you  must  vote  for  whomsoever 
the  convention  gives  you.  It  the  convention  had  given  you 
rweed,  every  mother's  son  of  you  would  have  dropped  your 
tail  between  your  Legs  and  voted  for  Tweed.  The  logic  of  this 
is  infamous.  .  .  .  You  would  not  do  it  anywhere  else,  1  tell  you, 
except  where  the  murrain  of  a  blighted  politics  had  fallen  upon 
you." 

The  second  course  had  too  much  of  prudential  shirking  to 
suit  Mr.  Beecher's  temperament.  If  the  Republican  nominee  \\  a s 
an  unfit  man  to  vote  for,  he  was  an  unfit  man  to  be  elected;  and, 
unless  his  opponent  should  be  as  conspicuously  unfit,  every  vote 
should  be  so  cast  as  to  affect  the  greatest  result. 

The  third  course  alone  seemed  open,  and  when  the  Democratic 
Convention,  in  a  sudden  spasm  of  good  sense  and  wisdom, 
nominated  Governor  Cleveland,  Mr.  Beecher's  mind  was  speedily 
made  up. 

With  the  first  outbreak  of  that  campaign  of  slanders  Mr. 
Beecher  was  greatly  disturbed.  He  at  once  requested  some  per- 
sonal friends  residing  in  Buffalo,  and  well  acquainted  with  Gov- 
ernor Cleveland's  life  and  reputation,  themselves  Republicans, 
to  make  a  thorough  investigation  of  the  scandalous  stories  in 
circulation,  and  wTas  satisfied  from  their  report  that  with  the  one 
exception,  admitted,  repented  of,  and  lived  down  by  a  life  of 
honesty  and  integrity,  the  stories  were  false. 

Once  satisfied  of  their  falsity,  he  entered  into  the  campaign 
with  all  his  old-time  fire  and  zeal. 

His  indignation  was  intensely  roused  at  their  circulation,  and 
it  only  needed  the  timid  caution  of  friends,  that  he  would  injure 
himself,  by  advocating  the  cause  of  a  man  about  whom  such  stories 
were  told,  to  arouse  him  to  an  outburst  of  indignant  scorn. 

"  In  all  the  history  of  politics  we  do  not  believe  that  lies  so 
cruel,  so  base,  so  atrocious  have  ever  been  set  in  motion.  The 
air  is  murky  with  the  shameless  stories  of  Mr.  Cleveland's 
private  life.  To  our  sorrow  and  shame  we  find  these  cockatrice's 
eggs  brooded  and  hatched  by  rash  and  credulous  clergymen. 
They  could  not  go  to  Mr.  Cleveland  with  honest  inquiry,  so  they 
opened  their  ears  to  the  harlot  and  the  drunkard.  They  have 
sought  by  hint,  innuendo,  irresponsible  slander,  to  poison  the 
faith  of  holy  men,  of  innocent  women,  and  they  have  sought  to 
make  back-biting  a  copt  virtue,  and  to  change  the  sanctuary  into 


578  B10GRAPH  Y  OP 

a  salacious  whispering-gallery.  Is  it  for  our  sins,  or  for  a  trial  of 
our  faith,  that  God  has  permitted  the  plagues  of  Egypt  to  revisit 
us  ?  The  land  swarms  with  vermin,  frogs  slime  our  bread- 
troughs,  and  lice  crawl  about  our  chambers. 

"  Do  timid  ministers  ever  reflect  that  the  guilt  of  a  vice  or  a 
crime  measures  the  guilt  of  him  who  charges  them  falsely  ? 
Slander  takes  on  the  guilt  of  crime  alleged.  True  religion  does 
not  creep  through  twilight  passages,  but  is  open,  frank,  rejoicing 
not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoicing  in  the  truth,  hoping  all  things. 
These  vespertilian  saints,  whose  soft  bat's  wings  bear  them  from 
house  to  house,  and  from  town  to  town,  in  the  service  of  Baal, 
the  God  of  flies  and  lies,  will  one  day  creep  into  the  holes  and 
clefts  of  rocks  and  hide  themselves.  .  .  . 

"  When  in  the  gloomy  night  of  my  own  suffering  I  sounded 
every  depth  of  sorrow,  I  vowed  that  if  God  would  bring  the  day 
star  of  hope  I  would  never  suffer  brother,  friend,  or  neighbor  to 
go  unfriended  should  a  like  serpent  seek  to  crush  him.  That 
oath  I  will  regard  now.  Because  I  know  the  bitterness  of  veno- 
mous lies,  I  will  stand  against  infamous  lies  that  seek  to  sting  to 
death  an  upright  man  and  magistrate.  Men  counsel  me  to  pru- 
dence lest  I  stir  again  my  own  griefs.  No  !  I  will  not  be 
prudent.  If  I  refuse  to  interpose  a  shield  of  well-placed  con- 
fidence between  Governor  Cleveland  and  the  swarm  of  liars  that 
nuzzle  in  the  mud,  or  sling  arrows  from  ambush,  may  my  tongue 
cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth  and  my  right  hand  forget  its 
cunning  !  I  will  imitate  the  noble  example  set  me  by  Plymouth 
Church  in  the  day  of  my  calamity.  They  were  not  ashamed  of 
my  bonds.  They  stood  by  me  with  God-sent  loyalty.  It  was  a 
heroic  deed.  They  have  set  my  duty  before  me,  and  I  will  imi- 
tate their  example." 

Of  course  many  of  Mr.  Beecher's  friends  were  greatly  exer- 
cised, and  lamented  what  they  feared  would  be  a  suicidal  course. 
Again,  for  the  twentieth  time  or  more,  he  was  rushing  upon  self- 
destruction — his  prestige  would  be  destroyed,  his  influence  lost, 
and  untold  woes  would  follow. 

As  we  look  back,  scarce  three  years,  we  cannot  but  smile,  in 
the  light  of  subsequent  events,  at  the  great  excitement  and  grief 
that  existed  then. 

But  then  it  was  real.  Every  effort  was  made  at  first  to  win 
Mr.  Beecher  to  support  Mr.  Blaine,  and  then  that  he  should  not 


A7  /     // /•: . \  A'  i '  WARl)  />  1 1  c  Hi':  R . 

support  Governor  Cleveland,  and  this  was  carried  even  t<>  the 
extent  of  threats. 

The    excitement    threatened  a  serious    division  in   his  church, 

and  the  danger  seemed  more  real  than  on  any  previous  occasion. 
Party  zeal  ran  high. 

lint  Mr.  Beecher  had  acted  only  after  careful  deliberation; 
being  satisfied  as  to  what  his  duty  was,  no  argument  could  sway 
him  in  the  least  that  appealed  to  his  fears  or  personal  benefit. 

To  a  clerical  friend  who  wrote  in  early  autumn,  just  before 
the  real  campaign  began,  he  replied  : 

"...  But,  now,  hear  me.  If  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  speak 
for  Cleveland  and  against  Blaine,  I  would  do  it,  though  I  lost  all 
my  influence,  all  my  friends,  my  church,  and  even  my  own 
family.  All  considerations  urged  upon  me  which  touch  my  feel- 
ings, hopes,  interests,  are  repelled  by  me  with  the  whole  force  of 
mv  nature,  and  I  cannot  treat  my  friends  better  than  I  do  my 
innermost  self.  I  will  not  be  bribed  even  by  love.  I  have  but  a 
few  years  left.  They  shall  not  put  to  shame  all  my  anti-slavery 
days.  I  do  not  doubt  that  you  love  me,  but  if  you  loved  me 
yet  more  you  would  urge  me  to  stand  firmly  to  my  conscientious 
convictions  and  not  heed  '  what  men  can  do  unto  me.'  The 
election  of  Blaine  will  be  a  sign  of  such  demoralized  moral  sense 
as  I  never  dreamed  could  befall  Christian  men  and  ministers  ;  or 
I  should  feel  so,  if  I  had  not  seen  good  men  and  ministers  in  the 
great  anti-slavery  struggle.  .  .  . 

"  I  wish  you  would  say  to  all  my  honest-hearted  brethren, 
please  let  me  alone  !  I  am  as  old  as  you  are,  as  diligent  in  seeking 
the  truth,  and  as  conscientious  in  deciding  and  acting." 

To  a  letter  of  remonstrance  and  advice  from  a  dear  friend,  a 
member  of  his  church,  he  wrote  : 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  receive  with  consideration  any  advice 
which  grown-up  men  desire  to  lay  before  me,  especially  those  of 
my  church.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  hope  the  brethren  will 
take  into  consideration  that  I  am  as  much  interested  in  being 
right  as  they  can  possibly  be,  and  that  I  have  had  some  ex- 
perience in  public  life,  and  that  all  that  is  said  in  the  newspapers, 
and  constituting  the  knowledge  in  which  the  brethren  act,  is  also 
before  me,  and  that  I  have  a  profound  interest  in  the  welfare  of 
the  nation  and  of  the  young  men  in  it. 

"  That,  after  forty  years'  hot  experience  of  stormy  times,   I 


58O  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

have  been  led,  hitherto  by  God's  providence,  to  the  right  con- 
clusion. 

"  I  am  still  in  God's  hands,  and  daily  ask  His  guiding  provi- 
dence.    What  more  ? 

"  The  alarm  of  friends,  the  party  excitement  of  others,  has  no 
effect  upon  me  whatever.  Any  new  and  real  infor?nation  I  shall 
be  grateful  for,  but  to  tell  me  nothing,  and  only  to  express 
amazement,  wonder,  concern,  etc.,  and  let  me  know  how  damag- 
ing to  my  reputation  and  interests  it  will  be  if  I  follow  my  judg- 
ment, and  not  theirs,  who  love  me  as  I  am  sure  these  brethren  do, 
indicates  how  far  gone  in  political  excitement  they  are,  and  how 
little  they  understand  the  man  whom  they  love. 

"  I  shall  do  my  duty  as  God  reveals  it  to  me,  without  a  mo- 
ment's consideration  of  its  effect  on  me.  I  am  ready  to  resign 
my  pastorate  at  an  hour's  notice,  when  I  no  longer  have  free- 
dom to  follow  my  convictions,  or  when  doing  so  divides  the 
church  and  scatters  the  congregation. 

"  I  am  thankful  to  the  brethren  who  have  written  ;  even  more 
so  to  those  who  have  not. 

"  I  receive  ten  to  forty  letters  a  day  from  all  over  the  land, 
clean  and  unclean,  and  merely  glance  at  them  and  burn  them." 

To  one  who  went  to  the  extent  of  threats  he  replied  : 

"  Your  remarkable  note  of  August  8th  is  received.  I  have 
nothing  to  say  to  the  general  views,  except  that  every  man  should 
determine  his  duty  for  himself  and  respect  the  same  liberty  in 
other  people. 

"  To  your  closing  sentence,  which  contains  the  threat  that,  if  I 
vote  for  Cleveland,  you  i  (I)  shall  feel  compelled  to  withdraw 
from  your  Church  and  your  teachings,'  I  would  only  say  that,  hav- 
ing profited  so  little  by  my  teachings,  as  this  arrogant  sentence  in- 
dicates, I  should  certainly  advise  you  to  change  your  church  rela- 
tions in  the  hope  of  better  results." 

It  was  not  until  the  campaign  had  gotten  under  full  headway, 
and  within  three  or  four  weeks  of  the  election,  that  Mr.  Beecher 
began  to  take  any  very  active  part  in  it.  At  first  he  intended  to 
speak  only  in  New  York  and  Brooklyn ;  but  as  the  campaign  pro- 
gressed he  realized  the  importance  of  devoting  every  energy  to 
securing  the  States  of  New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Connecticut. 
Accordingly,  during  the  last  two  weeks  he  spoke  every  day  save 
Sunday,  and    on  some  days  twice,  visiting  the  more  important 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  58 1 

cities  of  those  three  States.  He  was  wi\  earnest  that  the  "  in- 
dependents" should  Dot  enter  the  Democratic  party,  but  should 

inize  as  "  Independent  Republicans." 

He  thought  that  it  was  time  that  the  political  managers  should 
understand,  that  there  was  a  moral  sense  in  the  community  that 
would  not  submit  to  bad  nominations  ;  that  the  best  way  to  re- 
deem his  party  was  by  defeating  unworthy  nominees,  and  that,  if 
this  was  persisted  in,  the  politicians  would  soon  see  the  necessity 
of  deferring  to  an  enlightened  public  sentiment,  and  putting  in 
nomination  only  its  best  men. 

He  felt  that  the  Republican  party  was  being  misled,  by  the 
same  influences  that  had  secured  unwise  or  improper  nomina- 
tions, into  a  very  dangerous  path,  that  would  ultimately  lead  to 
the  utter  destruction  of  the  party  itself. 

In  one  of  his  earlier  speeches  in  the  campaign  of  1884,  he 
voiced  that  feeling  when  he  spoke  of  his  appearing  in  opposition 
to  the  organized  action  of  the  party  : 

"  I  confess,  at  the  risk  of  the  imputation  of  some  immodesty, 
that  my  appearance  here  to-night,  to  antagonize  the  organized  ac- 
tion of  the  Republican  party,  is  itself  a  fact  of  the  most  signifi- 
cant character.  Before  many  of  you  were  born  I  was  rocking 
the  cradle  of  the  Republican  party.  I  fought  its  early  battles 
when  it  was  in  an  apparently  hopeless  minority.  I  advocated  its 
cause,  speaking  day  and  night,  at  the  risk  of  my  health  and  of 
my  life  itself,  which  I  counted  as  nothing  compared  with  the  in- 
terests of  my  country,  when  Fremont  was  our  first  notable  candi- 
date. When  Mr.  Lincoln  became  our  candidate  I  gave  all  I  had 
of  time,  strength,  influence,  and  persuasion,  and  when  his  elec- 
tion was  ascertained  and  efforts  were  made  to  intimidate  the 
North,  and  to  prevent  his  being  inaugurated,  I  went  up  and 
down  through  this  country  stiffening  the  backs  of  wiilow-backed 
patriots.  I  faced  mobs,  I  preached  day  and  night  in  my  own 
church,  to  hold  the  North  up  to  its  own  rights  and  interests. 
When  the  Avar  broke  out,  I  sent  to  it  the  only  boy  I  had  big 
enough  to  hold  a  musket.  And  as  the  war  went  on  my  contribu- 
tion could  not  be  much,  but  such  as  it  was  I  gave  it — I  gave  it  as 
a  mother  gives  her  breast  to  her  child. 

"And  when,  seeking  some  rest  from  exhausting  cares  and 
labors,  I  went  abroad,  I  did  not  suffer  the  grass  to  grow  under 
my  feet,  but,  in  the  face  of  royalty  and  aristocracy  and  of  great 


582  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

wealth  in  England,  I  upheld  the  justice  and  the  rectitude  of  the 
cause  for  which  we  were  all  striving.  And  at  every  canvass  from 
that  day  to  this  I  have  not  held  back  health,  strength,  or  influ- 
ence. Why,  then,  is  it  that  I  am  now  opposed  to  the  organized 
movement  of  the  Republican  party  ?  That  is  a  significant  ques- 
tion. 

"  I  am  now  opposing  the  party  whose  cradle  I  rocked,  be- 
cause I  do  not  mean  to  be  a  pall-bearer  to  carry  the  coffin  of 
that  party  to  the  grave.  The  Republican  party  is  on  its  way  to 
destruction,  unless  you  turn  the  switch  and  run  it  on  a  side 
track.  And  by  all  my  love  of  my  country — and  it  is  next  to 
my  love  of  my  God — by  all  my  pride  in  the  past,  I  feel  bound 
to  do  whatever  God  will  inspire  me  to  do,  to  stop  the  ruinous 
progress  of  the  Republican  party  and  to  save  it. 

"  It  behooves  you,  therefore,  not  to  make  mere  amusement  of 
the  work  of  this  evening.  I  speak  to  you  as  to  a  jury.  The  case 
before  you  is  not  that  of  some  trembling  culprit,  or  some  wronged 
citizen  seeking  redress.  It  is  your  whole  country  that  is  before 
you  to-night,  whose  cause  I  am  to  plead — to  plead  as  if  life  or 
death  hung  on  the  issues.  I  am  in  dead  earnest.  It  is  very 
natural  that  men  working  through  a  political  party,  should,  by 
and  by,  come  to  look  upon  all  events  in  the  community  in  their 
relation  to  party  welfare  and  party  success.  But  I,  who  have  had 
nothing  to  do  with  parties,  except  as  moral  instruments,  natur- 
ally look  upon  their  movements  and  purposes  from  the  moral 
standpoint.  What  are  they  attempting  to  do  for  this  great  peo- 
ple ?  What  does  their  success  mean  ?  How  does  it  stand  along- 
side the  intelligence,  the  morality,  the  true  religion  of  this  peo- 
ple, alongside  that  patriotism  which  rests  its  feet  on  morality,  but 
whose  head  stands  in  the  spirituality  which  connects  man  with 
God  ?  I  study  public  affairs  from  the  moral  and  religious  stand- 
point, and  that  which  is  offensive  to  God  may  I  never  live  to  see 
the  day  when  it  may  be  acceptable  to  me  and  to  my  country- 
men. 

"  Looking  forward,  as  the  pilot  looks,  what  are  our  perils  ? 
The  war  is  over.  The  great  questions  that  agitated  the  com- 
munity are  past.  You  can't  bring  them  back.  There  are,  how- 
ever, two  great  dangers  that  betide  our  government.  One  is  the 
danger  that  comes  from  the  corrupt  use  of  wealth  ;  the  other, 
that  which  comes  from  the  corruption  of  too-long-held  power. 


RE l'.  HENRY  WA Rl >  B !  I  I '// 1  R.  5 S J 

It  is  a  common  proverb,  'An  honest   man  can  bear  watching 

dishonest  man  needs  it.'     This  is  just  as  true  of  politic  b 
common  procedure.     Tins  is  the  age  of  enterprise,  of  produc- 
tion,  of    commerce — of   money.     Russia,    Austria,  and    I- ranee 
tailed  in  their  greatest  recent  wars  and   enterprises   because  those 

countries  were  honeycombed  with  official  corruption.     We  are  in 

danger  from  the  same  cause." 

He  regarded  the  introduction  of  the  moral  element  into  poli- 
ties as  an  event  of  the  greatest  importance. 

Politics  had  become  so  eminently  "practical"  that  any  one 
who  should  suggest  the  wisdom,  or  even  propriety,  of  basing  poli- 
tical action  on  any  moral  principle,  was  in  danger  of  being  laugh- 
ed at  as  a  "crank,"  "  dude,"  or  "political  pharisee." 

And  when  in  the  birth  of  the  Prohibition  party,  and  the  sud- 
den uprising  of  the  Independent  Republicans,  he  saw  the  attempt 
to  found  practical  politics  upon  a  purely  moral  foundation,  he 
hailed  them  both  as  among  the  most  hopeful  signs  of  the  times. 

Writing  of  these  two  movements,  he  said  : 

■'  Men  of  moral  aims  have  been  ruled  out  as  impracticables, 
as  ignorant  of  real  politics,  as  enthusiasts  and  sentimentalists, 
as  idealists  and  doctrinaires.  This  has  been  very  true,  and  they 
have  hitherto  hung  on  the  border  of  parties  like  a  fringe  of  no 
substance  or  use.  But  the  development  of  the  party  of  Prohibi- 
tionists and  of  Independent  Republicans  is  a  disclosure,  it  seems 
to  me,  of  a  great  providential  development  in  politics,  and  that 
there  is  to  be  hereafter  a  place  found  for  the  moral  eleme?its  in 
the  politics  of  our  country  ! 

"  I  have  spoken  of  the  two  formative  elements  as  likely  to 
coalesce.  For,  though  there  be  thousands  who  cannot  become 
technical  prohibitionists,  yet  they  will  help  them  to  create  a 
higher  moral  sentiment  on  the  subject  of  temperance." 

The  results  of  the  election  and  the  part  that  Mr.  Beecher 
took  therein  have  become  history,  and  need  not  be  further  de- 
tailed. 

Mr.  Beecher's  action  was  not,  as  has  been  erroneously  sug- 
gested, caused  by  any  sudden  impulse.  On  the  contrary,  it  was 
the  result  of  careful  and  earnest  deliberation,  and  was  not  taken 
until  his  mind  was  fully  made  up,  and  it  retained  the  approval  of 
his  later  judgment,  after  the  heat  and  excitement  of  the  contest 
had  died  out. 


584 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


In  his  Thanksgiving  sermons,  it  was  his  custom  to  review  to 
some  extent  the  political  as  well  as.  material  growth  of  the 
country,  to  find  in  both  whatever  there  might  be  fit  for  thanks- 
giving. 

On  Thanksgiving,  1884,  he,  at  first,  intended  to  review  the 
course  of  the  events  of  the  campaign  just  completed,  and  com- 
menced a  sermon  for  that  purpose.  After  writing  a  part,  he 
changed  his  plans  and  prepared  another,  in  which  he  reviewed 
the  reconstruction  of  the  country  since  the  war.  From  this  we 
have  quoted  in  a  previous  chapter. 

The  manuscript  of  his  unfinished  sermon  we  have,  and,  though 
it  is  a  fragment  only,  it  will  be  of  value  as  showing  his  more 
sober  judgment,  reviewing  in  retrospect  the  campaign  just  past 
and  his  part  therein. 

"  During  the  great  political  campaign  which  has  just  ter- 
minated, I  have  scrupulously  refrained  from  introducing  into  the 
pulpit,  or  into  the  social  meetings  of  this  church,  a  word  that, 
directly  or  indirectly,  had  any  bearing  upon  politics. 

"  Not  that  I  had  not  the  right,  but  because  it  was  not  expe- 
dient. Out  of  the  bounds  of  the  church  I  felt  called  to  take  an 
active  part. 

"  I  am  not  willing  that  you  should  be  ignorant  of  my  inmost 
motives,  and  that  you  should  have  spread  out  before  you  the 
whole  map  of  affairs  as  looked  at  from  my  standpoint.  Many 
of  you,  steadfast  friends,  will  not  agree  with  my  theory  and  judg- 
ment of  my  duty  ;  but  you  will  acquit  me  of  apostasy,  or  of  in- 
consistency, and  perhaps  will  even  admit  that,  if  my  view  of 
the  whole  condition  of  national  affairs  was  correct,  my  action 
and  career  have  been  in  one  direction  for  forty  years,  and 
that  the  very  influences  which  led  me  to  help  in  the  formation  of 
the  Republican  party,  to  accept  its  hardships,  its  perils,  its  re- 
proaches, in  all  the  successive  periods  of  its  development,  have 
at  this  late  day  led  me  to  dissent  from  its  aims  and  policy.  I 
have  not  left  the  party.  I  am  standing  on  the  very  ground  over 
which  the  battles  have  raged,  when  I  have  lost  good  repute  and 
suffered  endless  revilings. 

kk  No,  I  have  left  nothing.  If  there  has  been  any  change,  it 
is  not  in  me.  I  would  not  take  one  step  away  from  those  great 
moral  principles  which  have  been  the  strength  of  this  great  his- 
toric party. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  5S5 

"Others  may  think  that  I  have  mistaken  the  reality  of  affairs. 
And  been  misled  by  will-o'-wisp  lights. 

"  But,  taking  all  counsel  of  all  sobriety  and  deliberation, every 

true  man  must  follow  his  own  ripe  judgment.  I  have  followed 
mine,  and,  looking  back  over  the  canvass,  I  should  be  conceited 
indeed  it'  I  said  that  I  had  been  perfect,  had  carried  a  cool  in- 
tensity  always,  said   nothing  too   severely.     Accepting  my    own 

limitations,  1  nevertheless  look  back  upon  the  past  few  months 
as  worthy  to  be  associated  with  the  months  and  years  of  half  a 
century  of  public  labor,  and  indeed,  if  you  will  forgive  the  con- 
ceit, I  regard  this  service  as  the  very  blossom  of  my  life. 

"  These  words  I  speak  to  my  friends  and  to  my  church.  I 
owe  no  apology  or  explanation  to  the  public.  But  to  the  great 
multitude  of  members  of  the  Church  and  society,  with  whom  so 
much  of  my  life  has  been  spent,  whose  friendship  and  love  I  have 
had,  whose  unity  of  hea- 1  and  soul  around  me  has  been  the  source 
of  so  much  gladness  and  strength  ;  to  you,  fathers,  mothers,  and 
friends  of  every  name — to  you,  laying  aside  my  too  sensitive  pride 
and  my  somewhat  fierce  sense  of  personal  independence,  I  shall 
to-day  unbosom  myself,  and  shall  try  to  give  you  a  bird's-eye 
view  of  the  condition  of  the  United  States  at  this  hour,  and  my 
understanding  of  what  it  is  that  God's  providence  is  calling  us  to. 

"  I  shall  enumerate,  point  by  point,  the  themes  for  thanksgiv- 
ing to-day  : 

M  To-day  is  waging  a  great  battle  between  Optimism  and  Pes- 
simism. What  is  Optimism  ?  That  happy  temperament  which 
leads  one  to  see  all  things  in  a  hopeful  light  and  in  a  joyful  cour- 
age. 

"  What  is  Pessimism  ?  It  is  that  structure  of  mind  which 
inclines  one  to  see  all  events  in  a  sad  and  discouraging  way. 
Either  disposition  carried  to  its  farthest  limit  is  unphilosophical. 
Good  is  not  all  good  ;  bad  is  not  all  bad.  Good  and  evil  are 
combined,  like  lights  and  shadows  in  art — sometimes,  as  in  Rem- 
brandt, voluminous  darkness  nursing  a  small  spot  of  light  ; 
sometimes  all  light  and  hardly  enough  dark  to  cast  a  shadow. 

"  In  looking  at  our  own  day  and  our  own  country  there  is 
both  light  and  shadow.  There  are  reasons  for  criticism  and  re- 
gret, but  more  for  gladness  and  thanksgiving. 

11  Great  excitements  in  monarchical  governments  are  great 
dangers.     When    the  government   takes  care  of  the  people,  the 


586  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

people  feel  little  need  of  caring  for  themselves.  When  the  peo- 
ple, by  the  genius  of  their  institutions,  are  to  look  out  for  them- 
selves, they  learn  how,  like  lofty  trees,  to  let  violent  winds  sway 
all  their  branches  without  disturbing  the  root.  That  is  anchored 
fast. 

"  The  roaring  anger  of  the  wind  and  the  sharp  cry  of  anguish 
in  the  resisting  branches  soon  pass  and  die  away,  and  the  tree, 
unclasped  by  the  demon  Storm,  comes  back  to  peace,  only  a  few 
leaves  lost,  a  few  branches  twisted. 

"  Three  weeks  ago  a  foreigner,  beholding  the  superlative  ex- 
citement of  the  whole  community,  East,  North,  West,  and  South, 
would  have  thought  that  there  could  never  be  peace  more. 
Newspapers  flew  like  unquenchable  arrows  every  whither,  busi- 
ness was  almost  forgotten,  the  streets  were  crowded  processions, 
meetings  were  convoked,  and  men  of  every  profession,  arguing, 
appealing,  inflamed  the  people.  Friends  let  go  each  other's 
hands,  families  were  divided  for  a  time.  Words  ran  high,  every 
truth  was  carried  to  the  utmost  limit  of  violence.  A  wordy 
prophesy  filled  the  land,  of  good  or  of  evil.  The  lawyer  forgot 
his  brief,  the  artist  his  aesthetic  dream,  the  merchant  his  bargains, 
the  judge  the  plushy  decorum  of  the  bench.  Refined  ministers 
of  the  Gospel,  loving  elegant  retiracy,  burst  forth  in  interviews. 
Venerable  pastors  presided  at  wild  political  demonstrations,  and 
some  even  went  forth  speaking  up  and  down  the  land,  like  Saul 
of  old,  in  prophesying  fury.  Hundreds  of  honored  and  beloved 
ministers  marched  in  full  panoply  of  zeal,  like  Balaam  of  old,  to 
curse.  .  .  . 

"  Three  weeks  have  passed  !  It  is  all  gone.  No  more  ban- 
ners, lanterns,  transparencies,  or  shouts  of  men.  The  lamps  are 
out,  the  men  gone  home  to  work,  trades  resumed,  the  lawyer  to 
the  courts,  the  clergyman  to  his  pulpit.  The  anger,  the  scare, 
the  grief  of  surprise  that  everybody  had,  that  everybody  should 
have  said  or  done  what  everybody  did,  is  dying  out,  the  sore 
places  are  healing,  friends  are  reaching  out  kindly  hands  again. 

"  The  storm  that  darkened  the  heavens,  the  turbulent  sea  that 
thundered  on  the  shore,  have  resumed  their  peaceful  mien.  The 
only  mourners  are  they  who  sought  and  found  not,  who  knocked 
and  unto  whom  it  was  not  opened.  Even  they  will  ere  long 
cool  their  anger,  shorten  their  sighs,  and,  like  a  weary  child  in  its 
mother's  lap,  hide  all  its  grief  in  sleep." 


RET.  HENRY   WARD   BEECH ER. 

Mr.  Beecher  was  very  much  gratified,  not  only  at  the  ek<  tion 
of  Mr.  Cleveland,  tor  whom  he  had  grown  to  feel  a  sti  rson- 

al  friendship,  and  in  whose  administration,  despite  the  occasional 

mistakes  that  proved  even  the  President  to  be  subject  to  the 
fallibilities  of  mankind,  he  found  so  much  of  moral  courage,  firm- 
ness, and  honest  good  sense  to  admire  and  approve,  but  in  addi- 
tion to  these  reasons,  he  felt  that  an  administration  in  which  the 
South  should  be  permitted  to  have  a  part,  meant  the  reuniting  of 
the  country  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name,  and  a  fitting  sequel  to  that 
reconstruction  which  he  had  so  earnestly  advocated  nearly  twenty 
years  before.  He  had  earnestly  prayed  that  he  might  see  trw 
day  when  our  country  should  be  one  nation,  without  the  lines  of 
a  bitter  sectionalism,  dividing  North  from  South  or  East  from 
West  ;  and  in  his  last  year  expressed  the  great  satisfaction  he  felt 
in  the  part  he  had  been  permitted  to  play  in  bringing  about  such 
a  result. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A  Preacher — His  Place — His  Training — His  Estimate  of  the  Work — De- 
fects— Effectual  Call — Upon  Drawing  an  Audience — His  Theory — Pre- 
paration— Results — A  Theologian — His  Orthodoxy — Evolution — Ordi- 
nances— Christian  Unity — Sectarianism — Peacemaker. 

IT  now  belongs  to  us,  among  the  closing  chapters  of  this  biog- 
raphy, to  speak  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  or  rather  to  allow 
him,  for  the  most  part,  to  speak  for  himself,  as  a  preacher, 
a  theologian,  and  an  administrator  of  ordinances — three  spheres 
of  activity  so  blended  that  it  is  of  advantage  to  treat  them  to- 
gether. His  doctrines  necessarily  shaped  his  preaching,  his 
preaching  colored  and  emphasized  his  theology,  and  both  to- 
gether determined  his  estimate  of  the  Church  as  an  organized 
body,  and  the  value  of  its  rites  and  ceremonies. 

Among  them,  the  preacher  stood  pre-eminent.  He  himself 
regarded  preaching  as  especially  his  vocation,  and  in  his  judg- 
ment it  ranked  highest  of  all  earthly  pursuits.  Nowhere  else 
was  he  so  happy  as  in  this  his  chosen  work.  As  a  preacher  he 
was  most  widely  known,  and  for  his  labors  in  this  sphere,  we 
doubt  not,  he  will  be  the  longest  remembered. 

His  field  was  broader  than  was  ever  before  given  to  any 
preacher,  and  no  man  that  ever  lived  preached  continuously  to 
so  large  and  influential  audiences.  During  his  forty  years  in 
Plymouth  pulpit  men  from  every  part  of  the  civilized  world  came 
to  hear  him,  and  to  every  part  of  the  civilized  world  did  his  pub- 
lished sermons  find  their  way,  bringing  instruction,  inspiration, 
and  comfort  to  multitudes. 

Of  his  rank  as  a  preacher,  it  is  not  for  us  to  speak  dogmati- 
cally. We  stood  too  near  him — perhaps  all  men  of  the  present 
time  stand  too  near  him — to  be  impartial  judges.  Many  letters 
and  reports  of  sermons  have  come  to  us  in  which  he  is  given  the 
first  place  among  the  preachers  of  this  age,  and  a  few,  among 
them  some  from  men  who  themselves  hold  the  first  rank,  place 

him  before  all  preachers  since  the  Apostle  Paul.    Which  of  these, 

58s 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER.  5X9 

or  whether  either,  is  the  true  estimate  or  not,  it  does  not  belong 
to  us  nor  to  any  man  living  to  decide  ;  but  we  believe  that  the 
latter  judgment  will  in  time  Largely  prevail. 

The  open  heart  that  receives  inspiration  of  God  ;  the  pro- 
phetic  insight  of  the  true  preacher  that  sees  into  the  heart  of 
things,  ami  sees  God  there,  and  believes,  with  an  intense  convic- 
tion born  of  experience,  that  God's  nature  is  love  ;  that  this  love 
is  not  for  the  Jew  only,  for  those  of  favored  lineage,  of  excellent 
position,  of  high  moral  standard  and  attainment,  or  of  right  be- 
lief, but  is  for  the  Gentile,  for  the  wandering,  the  erring,  the 
lost,  outside  the  Church,  outside  even  the  sympathies  and  hope  of 
religious  men,  the  only  power  that  can  save,  but  able  to  save  to 
the  uttermost  ;  the  ability  to  see  this  love  incarnated  in  Jesus 
Christ  and  feel  it  as  sunshine  upon  the  soul,  continually  dispel- 
ling the  darkness  ;  to  love  Him,  as  He  is  so  manifested,  with  an 
all-absorbing  passion  of  personal  affection,  before  which  all 
things  pass  away  from  their  old  adjustments  and  become  new  ; 
to  see  Him  not  only  head  of  the  Church,  but  head  over  all 
things  ;  to  find  in  Him  the  centre  of  unity  which  the  world 
needs,  middle  walls  of  partition  between  Jew  and  Gentile,  be- 
tween learned  and  unlearned,  between  ranks  and  classes,  be- 
tween science  and  religion,  broken  down  ;  the  power  to  rejoice 
in  sufferings  for  His  sake,  to  bear  without  faltering,  to  love 
without  failing,  although  "  the  more  we  love  the  less  we  be 
loved  "  ;  the  ability  to  open  this  Gospel  to  others,  in  speech  that 
moved  all  hearts,  as  the  winds  move  the  tree-tops,  that  never 
touched  an  object,  however  common,  but  to  leave  it  exalted,  set 
La  some  new  and  higher  relation  ;  the  ability  to  move  men  to 
think,  to  act,  to  love — all  this,  we  believe,  has  never  been  pos- 
sessed to  an  equal  degree  with  Mr.  Beecher  by  any  preacher 
since  Saint  Paul  preached  to  the  Athenians,  taking  the  altar  of 
the  unknown  god  for  his  text  ;  since  he  described  charity  to  the 
Corinthians,  told  the  Colossians  that  all  the  creation  consists, 
stands  in  harmony,  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  wrote  the  Epistle  to  the 
Ephesians.  Nor  do  we  believe  that  to  any  one  but  to  him 
has  there  been  given  a  work  that  so  nearly  resembled  that  of 
the  great  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles,  whose  part  it  was  to  bridge 
over  by  a  living  faith,  or  rather  by  faith  in  a  living  One, 
the  vast  differences  that  kept  classes  and  orders  and  nationali- 
ties separate  ;  to  give  expression  to  the  new  and  broader   hope  ; 


590 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


to  reconcile  the  old  to  the  new  and  more  vital  faith,  and  show 
the  relation  of  a  risen  Lord  to  a  material  universe.  But  in  this 
we  may  be  unduly  prejudiced  by  our  affection.  We  will  let  the 
sifting  processes  of  the  years  decide. 

That  he  became  a  minister,  as  did  his  brothers,  by  reason 
of  the  unswerving  faith  and  prayer  of  the  parents,  is  already 
well  known.  "  Out  of  six  sons  not  one  escaped  from  the  pul- 
pit." "My  mother  dedicated  me  to  the  work  of  the  foreign  mis- 
sionary ;  she  laid  her  hands  upon  me,  wept  over  me,  and  set  me 
apart  to.  preach  the  Gospel  among  the  heathen,  and  I  have  been 
doing  it  all  my  life  long,  for  it  so  happens  one  does  not  need  to 
go  far  from  his  own  country  to  find  his  audience  before  him." 

Ushered  into  the  preparation  for  the  ministry  by  the  parental 
faith,  stumbling  and  discouraged  and  ready  to  give  up  the  work, 
another  hand  was  not  wanting  to  open  still  more  clearly  the  way, 
draw  back  the  curtains,  and  let  in  the  light : 

"  I  beheld  Him  as  a  helper,  as  the  soul's  midwife,  as  the  soul's 
physician,  and  I  felt  because  I  was  weak  I  could  come  to  Him  ; 
because  I  did  not  know  how,  and,  if  I  did  know,  I  had  not  the 
strength,  to  do  the  things  that  were  right — that  was  the  invitation 
that  He  gave  to  me  out  of  my  conscious  weakness  and  want.  I 
will  not  repeat  the  scene  of  that  morning  when  light  broke  fairly 
on  my  mind  ;  how  one  might  have  thought  that  I  was  a  lunatic 
escaped  from  confinement ;  how  I  ran  up  and  down  through  the 
primeval  forest  of  Ohio,  shouting,  '  Glory,  glory  ! '  sometimes  in 
loud  tones  and  at  other  times  whispered  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy  and 
surprise.  All  the  old  troubles  gone,  and  light  breaking  in  on  my 
mind,  I  cried  :  '  I  have  found  my  God  ;  I  have  found  my  God  ! ' 
From  that  hour  I  consecrated  myself  to  the  work  of  the  ministry 
anew,  for  before  that  I  had  about  made  up  my  mind  to  go  into 
some  other  profession." 

His  early  training-school  for  effective  preaching  was  well 
selected.  It  was,  as  is  well  known,  one  of  the  little  villages  on 
the  banks  of  the  Ohio  River,  where  the  wants  of  river  barge- 
men and  frontiermen  demanded  his  attention.  It  was  there  he 
decided  what  his  life-work  should  be. 

"'My  business  shall  be  to  save  men,  and  to  bring  to  bear 
upon  them  those  views  that  are  my  comfort,  that  are  the  bread 
of  life  to  me';  and  I  went  out  among  them  almost  entirely  cut 
loose  from  the  ordinary  church  institutions  and  agencies,  know- 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  Bl  59  I 

ing    nothing    but    'Christ,    and    Him    crucified,'   the   sufferer  for 

mankind.  Did  not  the  men  round  me  need  su<  h  a  Saviour  ? 
Was  there  ever  sueh  a  field  as  I  found  ?  Every  sympathy  of  my 
being  was  continually  solicited  for  the  ignoranee,  for  the  rude- 
ness, for  the  aberrations,  for  the  avarice,  for  the  quarrelsomeness 
oi  the  men  among  whom  1  was,  and  I  was  trying  every  form  and 
presenting  Christ  as  a  medicine  to  men.  I  went  through  the 
woods  and  through  camp-meetings  and  over  prairies.  Every- 
where my  vacations  were  all  missionary  tours,  preaching  Christ 
for  the  hope  of  salvation.  I  am  not  saying  this  to  show  you  how 
I  came  to  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  but  to  show  you  how  I  came 
to  the  habit  and  forms  of  my  ministry.  I  tried  everything  on  to 
folks." 

Added  to  the  forces  of  experience  and  surroundings  was 
always  that  of  his  own  personal,  natural  endowment.  This  he 
found  fault  with  and  tried  to  change,  as  most  people  do  at  some 
period  of  their  lives,  but  finally  accepted  and  concluded  to  use  as 
best  he  could,  without  murmuring,  but  always  conscious  of  its 
limitations. 

"  I  have  my  own  peculiar  temperament,  I  have  my  own  meth- 
od of  preaching,  and  my  method  and  temperament  necessitate 
errors.  I  am  not  worthy  to  be  related  in  the  hundred-thousandth 
degree  to  those  more  happy  men  who  never  make  a  mistake  in 
the  pulpit.  I  make  a  great  many.  I  am  impetuous.  I  am  in- 
tense at  times  on  subjects  that  deeply  move  me.  I  feel  as  though 
all  the  ocean  were  not  strong  enough  to  be  the  powrer  behind  my 
words,  nor  all  the  thunders  that  were  in  the  heavens,  and  it  is  of 
necessity  that  such  a  nature  as  that  should  give  such  intensity  at 
times  to  parts  of  doctrine  as  to  exaggerate  them  when  you  come 
to  bring  them  into  connection  with  a  more  rounded-out  and 
balanced  view.  I  know  it — I  know  it  as  well  as  you  do.  I 
would  not  do  it  if  I  could  help  it ;  but  there  are  times  when  it  is 
not  I  that  is  talking,  when  I  am  caught  up  and  carried  away  so 
that  I  know  not  whether  I  am  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body, 
when  I  think  things  in  the  pulpit  that  I  never  could  think  in  the 
study,  and  when  I  have  feelings  that  are  so  far  different  from  any 
that  belong  to  the  lower  or  normal  condition  that  I  neither  can 
regulate  them  nor  understand  them.  I  see  things  and  I  hear 
sounds,  and  seem,  if  not  in  the  seventh  heaven,  yet  in  a  condi- 
tion that  leads  me  to  understand  what   Paul  said — that  he  heard 


592 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


things  which  it  was  not  possible  for  a  man  to  utter.  I  am  acting 
under  such  a  temperament  as  that.  I  have  got  to  use  it,  or  not 
preach  at  all.  I  know  very  well  I  do  not  give  crystalline  views 
nor  thoroughly  guarded  views  ;  there  is  often  an  error  on  this 
side  and  an  error  on  that,  and  I  cannot  stop  to  correct  them.  A 
man  might  run  around,  like  a  kitten  after  its  tail,  all  his  life,  if 
he  were  going  around  explaining  all  his  expressions  and  all  the 
things  he  had  written.  Let  them  go.  They  will  correct  them- 
selves. The  average  and  general  influence  of  a  man's  teaching 
will  be  more  mighty  than  any  single  misconception,  or  misappre- 
hension through  misconception." 

Successful  as  he  was,  he  yet  had  none  of  the  self-conceit  that 
would  lead  him  to  believe  that  he  had  reached  perfection  ;  on 
the  contrary,  his  language  was  always  that  of  one  who  had  not 
yet  attained,  but  was  continually  reaching  out  unto  it.  "  Young 
gentlemen,  I  want  to  tell  you  true  preaching  is  yet  to  come.  Of 
all  professions  for  young  men  to  look  forward  to,  I  do  not  know 
another  one  that  seems  to  me  to  have  such  scope  before  it,  in  the 
future,  as  preaching. 

"  And  as  my  years  increase  I  want  to  bear  a  testimony.  I 
suppose  I  have  had  as  many  opportunities  as  any  man  here,  or 
any  living  man,  of  what  are  called  honors  and  influence  and 
wealth.  The  doors  have  been  opened,  the  golden  doors,  for 
years.  I  want  to  bear  witness  that  the  humblest  labor  which  a 
minister  of  God  can  do  for  a  soul  for  Christ's  sake  is  grander  and 
nobler  than  all  learning,  than  all  influence  and  power,  than  all 
riches.  And,  knowing  so  much  as  I  do  of  society,  I  have  this 
declaration  to  make  :  that  if  I  were  called  to  live  my  life  over 
again,  and  I  were  to  have  a  chance  of  the  vocations  which  men 
seek,  I  would  again  choose,  and  with  an  impetus  arising  from 
the  experience  of  this  long  life,  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ,  for  honor,  for  cleanliness,  for  work  that  never  ends, 
having  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is  as  well  as  of  that 
which  is  to  come — I  would  choose  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel : 
to  them  that  perish,  foolishness;  to  them  that  believe  and  accept 
it,  life  everlasting." 

And  that  not  because  of  great  success  :  "  There  is  a  deep  en- 
joyment in  having  devoted  yourself,  soul  and  body,  to  the  welfare 
of  your  fellow-men,  so  that  you  have  no  thought  and  no  care  but 
for  them.     There  is  a  pleasure  in  that  which  is  never  touched  by 


a/- .-/•.  i/f.xky  Ward  BeEcher,  593 

any  ordinary  experiences  in  humaja  life.  It  is  the  highest  I 
look  back  to  my  missionary  days  as  being  transcendently  the 
happiest  period  of  my  life.  The  sweetest  pleasures  I  have  ever 
known  are  not  those  that  1  have  now,  but  those  that  I  remember, 
when  1  was  unknown,  in  an  unknown  land,  among  a  scattered 
people,  mostly  poor,  and   to  whom  I  had  to  go  and  preach  the 

pel,  man  by  man,  house  by  house,  gathering  them  on  Sun- 
days, a  lew — twenty,  fifty,  or  a  hundred,  as  the  case  might  be — 
and  preaching  the  Gospel  more  formally  to  them  as  they  were 
able  to  bear  it." 

In  his  whole  course  we  believe  that  he  was  as  little  moved 
by  personal  ambition  as  any  man  could  possibly  be.  Upon  his 
graduation  he  took  the  first  church  that  asked  for  his  services — 
as  undesirable  a  church  at  that  time  probably,  in  position,  char- 
acter, and  strength,  as  could  well  have  been  found.  And  the 
two  removes  he  made  were  the  result  of  necessity  rather  than  of 
choice.  He  had  no  large  and  stock  sermons  with  which  to 
awaken  the  admiration  of  men.  Large  subjects  he  had  in  plen- 
ty, but  the  sermon  was  such  as  grew  at  the  time. 

From  our  knowledge  of  him  wre  believe  he  spoke  with  abso- 
lute truthfulness  when  he  says  : 

"  I  have  had  no  ambitions  ;  I  have  sought  no  laurels  ;  I  have 
deliberately  rejected  many  things  that  would  have  been  conso- 
nant to  my  taste.  It  would  have  been  for  me  a  great  delight  to 
be  a  scholar  ;  I  should  have  relished  exceedingly  to  have  per- 
fected my  thought  in  the  study,  and  to  have  given  it  such  quali- 
ties as  that  it  should  stand  as  classics  stand.  But  when  the 
work  was  pressed  upon  me,  and  my  relations  to  my  own  country 
and  to  mankind  became  urgent,  I  remember,  as  if  it  were  but 
yesterday,  when  I  laid  my  literary  ambition  and  my  scholarly 
desires  upon  the  altar  and  said  :  *  If  I  can  do  more  for  my  Mas- 
ter and  for  men  by  my  style  of  thinking  and  working,  I  am  wall- 
ing to  work  in  a  second-rate  way  ;  I  am  willing  to  leave  writing 
behind  my  back  ;  I  am  willing  not  to  carve  statues  of  beauty,  but 
simply  to  do  the  things  that  would  please  God  in  the  salvation  of 
men.'  " 

He  had  not  only  no  ambitions  for  himself,  but  he  had  no  pa- 
tience in  that  seeking  for  place  which,  sometimes  with  the  best 
of  intentions,  ministers  adopt.  We  well  remember  how,  early  in 
our  ministry,  hearing  that  a  larger  church  was  offered  to  us,  and 


594 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


fearing  lest,  in  our  inexperienced  zeal,  we  might  accept,  he  tele- 
graphed us  not  to  decide  until  we  had  seen  him,  but  to  come  on 
to  Brooklyn,  that  he  might  urge  upon  us  the  importance  of  a 
young  man's  staying  in  his  first  parish  until  "  he  had  done  some- 
thing," by  which  he  meant  doing  the  work  he  had  gone  there  to 
undertake. 

Two  things  he  considered  essential  to  an  effectual  call  to  the 
minister  to  change  his  parish  :  one  was  "  an  open  door  in  front, 
and  the  other  was  a  kick  from  behind."  It  was  not  enough  that 
there  was  an  open  door  ;  some  pressure  of  health  or  dissatisfac- 
tion was  needed  to  make  a  perfect  call.  What  a  man  was  to  do 
when  he  got  the  kick,  and  there  was  no  open  door  in  front,  we  do 
not  remember. 

Again  he  writes  me  : 

"  My  Dear  Sam  : 

"  It  is  not  needful  that  a  Christian  should  be  a  Stoic,  and  in- 
different to  all  experiences  of  success  and  popularity  among 
others ;  yet,  if  a  straightforward  working  man  finds  that  he  does 
not  produce  popular  results,  it  is  not  for  him  to  worry  about  it. 
If  a  man  reaches  the  true  spirit,  he  will  find  a  certain  high  and 
solemn  satisfaction,  down  deep  in  himself,  that  he  is  thoroughly 
and  earnestly  faithful  without  the  outward  signs  and  remunera- 
tions. 

"  This  is  working  '  as  unto  the  Lord,'  and  not  unto  men.  You 
will  find  much  of  this  in  Paul,  who  was  not  popular,  as  Apollos 
was,  and  who  dug  out  his  results  by  the  hardest — and  saw  but  little 
at  that — of  all  his  real  usefulness.  Read  2  Cor.  xii.  12-15.  That 
last  verse  is  deeply  affecting.  It  goes  far  beyond  and  below  any 
experience  that  you  or  I  ever  had.  As  to  the  not  drawing  large 
audiences,  my  own  experience  is  probably,  in  my  early  ministry, 
far  less  encouraging  than  yours.  My  Lawrenceburg  church  held 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred,  and  was  never 
crowded.  At  Indianapolis  I  never  saw  my  church  really  full  but 
three  or  four  times  in  eight  years.  I  think  that  my  audience  for 
the  first  ten  years  of  my  preaching  life  did  not  average  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty. 

"  I  never  regarded  myself  as  particularly  popular,  nor  destined 
to  any  considerable  success  more  than  belongs  to  any  hard-work- 
ing and  sensible  minister.     The  fact  is,  when  I  came  East  I  came 


AY.T.  ffBNKY   WARD   BEECH  EH.  595 

with  a  real  but  unexpressed  determination  to  work  hard  for 
common  folks,  ami  not  to  expe<  I  much  ;  ami  I  have  become  thor- 
oughly seasoned  to  the  feeling  that  large,  hard,  and  painful  work, 
heartily  performed  tor  Christ,  is  dearer  to  Him  when  it  pays 
nothing  outwardly  to  the  doer,  than  when,  by  overt  success,  it 
gratifies  the  natural  feelings. 

"  In  this,  too,  we  must  learn  *to  walk  by  faith  and  not  by  Sightf 
by  the  inside  eyes  ami  not  by  the  outside  vision. 

"  1  think  a  minister  who  is  discouraged  should  read  the 
eleventh  and  twelfth  chapters  of  Second  Corinthians  every  week. 
It  is  the  most  wonderful  record  of  experience  ever  penned,  if 
you  consider  how  uncomplaining — without  acrimony — how  cheer- 
ful, how  wholesome  and  victorious  is  the  whole  spirit  in  which 
his  career  is  recited.  It  is  not  the  language  of  a  discouraged  and 
baffled  man.  It  is  the  calm  retrospect  of  a  great  nature,  supe- 
rior in  one  part  of  his  soul  to  experiences  which  he  acutely  feels 
in  another  part. 

"  Yours  lovingly, 

"  H.  W.   Beecher." 

His  theory  of  preaching,  which  came  to  be  formed  out  of  his 
experience  of  the  grace  of  God  and  his  labors  for  men,  he  him- 
self has  given  : 

"  To  preach  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  ;  to  have  Christ  so 
melted  and  dissolved  in  you  that  when  you  preach  your  own 
self  you  preach  Him  as  Paul  did;  to  have  every  part  of  you  living 
and  luminous  with  Christ,  and  then  to  make  use  of  everything 
that  is  in  you,  your  analogical  reasoning,  your  logical  reasoning, 
your  imagination,  your  mirthfulness,  your  humor,  your  indigna- 
tion, your  wrath  ;  to  take  everything  that  is  in  you  all  steeped  in 
Jesus  Christ,  and  to  throw  yourself  with  all  your  power  upon  a 
congregation — that  has  been  my  theory  of  preaching  the  Gospel. 
A  good  many  folks  have  laughed  at  the  idea  of  my  being  a  fit 
preacher  because  I  laughed,  and  because  I  made  somebody  else 
laugh.  I  never  went  out  of  my  way  to  do  it  in  my  life  ;  but  if 
some  sudden  turn  of  a  sentence,  like  the  crack  of  a  whip,  sets 
men  off,  I  do  not  think  any  worse  of  it  for  that — not  a  bit.  I 
have  felt  that  man  should  consecrate  every  gift  that  he  has  got  in 
him  that  has  any  relation  to  the  persuasion  of  men  and  to  the 
melting  of  men — that  he  should  put  them  all  on  the  altar,  kindle 
them  all,  and   let  them  burn  for  Christ's   sake.     I   have  never 


596 


BIOGRAPHY  6F 


sought  singularity,  and  I  have  never  avoided  singularity.  When 
they  wanted  some  other  sort  of  teaching  I  have  always  said,  '  Get 
it.  If  you  want  my  kind,  here  I  am  ready  to  serve  you  ;  if  you 
do  not,  serve  yourself  better.'  " 

For  this  preaching  there  was  always  going  on  a  certain  prepa- 
ration, almost  involuntarily.  It  consisted  in  a  constant  study  of 
the  processes  of  nature  around  him,  examining  them  and  digest- 
ing them,  until  he  saw  the  relations  in  which  they  stood  to 
other  facts,  and  a  principle  was  discovered  or  an  illustration  of 
some  deeper  moral  and  spiritual  truth  was  gained.  This  action 
of  his  mind,  we  believe,  became  almost  automatic.  He  had  an 
insatiable  curiosity  to  learn  facts.  But  he  wanted  them  for  the 
same  reason  that  a  miller  wants  grain,  to  grind  and  make  bread. 
So  he  worked  them  over  until  he  had  got  something  from  them 
that  fed  his  mind  or  heart,  and  this  was  the  only  way  he  could 
remember  them. 

For  this  preaching  there  had  been  carried  on  for  years  a  study 
of  the  Bible.  The  evidences,  found  in  note-books  and  books  of 
analysis,  of  his  broad  and  painstaking  study  of  the  Gospels  have 
astonished  us.  People  seeing  him  always  on  the  wing,  finding 
him  never  in  his  study — in  fact,  having  in  his  house  no  study-room, 
as  such — got  the  impression  that  he  worked  but  little  ;  but  they 
made  a  great  mistake.  He  worked,  but  it  was  in  his  own  way. 
The  winter  that  I  saw  him  most  he  had  Stanley's  "  Commentary 
upon  the  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians,"  which  he  carried  for  weeks 
in  his  carpet-bag,  studied,  and  annotated  from  beginning  to  end. 
Mr.  Pond,  who  has  travelled  with  him  thousands  of  miles,  says 
that  Bible  reading  and  study  was  a  part  of  his  daily  wrork  while 
on  the  train. 

The  results  of  such  reading  and  study  appear  in  scores  of 
little  note-books  that  he  used,  some  of  which  lie  before  us,  con- 
taining subjects,  heads  of  sermons  jotted  down  at  moments  of 
inspiration,  in  the  family  circle,  on  the  railroad,  in  the  street-car, 
after  a  talk  with  some  friend,  written  for  the  most  part  in  that 
strong,  full  hand  that  is  so  well  known,  sometimes  plainly,  at 
other  times  so  obscurely  as  to  make  it  doubtful  if  he  himself 
could   read  it  after  it  had  become  cold. 

This  was  his  method  of  getting  subjects.  These  were  the 
acorn  thoughts,  out  of  which  grew  up  in  time  strong,  wide- 
spreading  oak-tree  sermons. 


A'A/'.  HENRV  WARD  BEECH ER.  ^oj 

With  ryes  wide  open  to  see  things,  he  kept  his  active  Sym- 
pathy ami  hearty  fellow-feeling  tor  men  in  exercise  by  constant 
intercourse  frith  tho>e  about  him.  Some  have  a  regard  for 
mankind  in  general,  but  only  criticism  ami  coldness  for  the  con- 
crete specimen  before  them.  This  was  not  the  case  with  him  ; 
he  liked  the  common  men  of  the  present,  and  made  it  an  object 
to  get  acquainted  with  them  and  to  be  with  them.  Very  seldom 
did  he  cross  the  river  on  the  ferry-boat  but  he  made  his  way  up 
into  the  pilot-house,  to  which  a  key  had  been  given  him,  to  have 
a  talk  with  the  pilot. 

We  have  been  often  asked,  "  How  does  Mr.  Beecher  prepare 
his  sermons  ? "  His  general  preparation  we  have  already  given. 
The  more  special  preparation  for  preaching  on  the  Sabbath  began 
on  Saturday  and  consisted  in  doing  as  little  work  as  possible — 
doing  what  pleased  him,  making  it  a  kind  of  active  rest-day. 
Perhaps,  if  the  weather  permitted,  he  ran  up  to  Peekskill  to  look 
over  the  place,  and  get  rid  of  all  friction  and  rasp  by  giving  at- 
tention to  its  common  and  homely  details,  or  to  feed  his  imagina- 
tion by  looking  out  upon  its  beautiful  landscape.  Perhaps  he 
spent  it  in  the  city.  If  so,  he  has  probably  been  over  to  New 
York,  looking  into  shop-windows,  dropping  into  Appleton's  to 
look  at  books,  or  into  Tiffany's  to  look  at  gems,  having  a  little  chat 
in  each  place  with  some  of  the  clerks.  You  may  be  sure  he  did 
not  forget  his  afternoon  nap  of  from  one  to  two  hours  ;  wherever 
he  was  he  aimed  to  secure  that.  He  has  fed  well  to-day,  but 
has  been  careful  not  to  eat  anything  that  does  not  agree  with 
him.  He  will  have  the  body  in  perfect  order  for  the  great 
work  of  the  morrow.  The  evening  he  spent  quietly  at  home, 
or,  possibly,  ran  into  one  or  two  of  the  homes  where  he 
was  most  familiar,  where  he  could  have  his  own  way  and 
be  not  bored  by  anybody's  trying  to  draw  him  out  into 
some  excited  discussion.  If  you  had  followed  him  there 
you  would  very  likely  have  found  him  taking  his  ease  upon 
the  sofa,  while  the  family  life  went  on  around  him,  in  which  he 
took  part  by  humorous  sallies  or  quiet  suggestions,  as  the  fancy 
prompted  him  ;  home  and  a  few  games  of  backgammon  with  Mrs. 
Beecher,  and  to  bed  by  eleven  o'clock.  Up  to  this  time  he  has 
not  decided  upon  the  subject  or  text  that  he  will  handle  on  the 
morrow  ;  to  have  chosen  it  so  early  as  this,  especially  to  have 
written  any  part  of  it  down,  would  have  killed  his  sermon  the 


598  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

next  day.  He  could  not  have  kindled  up  to  it  and  made  it  a 
living  thing,  if  it  had  been  for  so  long  a  time  buried  on  parch- 
ment. Even  upon  so  important  a  matter  as  his  first  lecture  of 
the  Lyman  Beecher  lectureship  in  Yale  College — a  new  enterprise, 
with  the  faculty  of  the  college  as  well  as  the  clergymen  of  the 
city  present,  and  his  lecture  to  be  reported  in  the  religious  press — 
he  did  not  touch  pen  to  paper  until  after  he  had  reached  New 
Haven,  taken  dinner,  had  his  nap,  and  was  within  an  hour  of  its 
delivery,  although  of  course  the  subject-matter  had  been  for  a 
long  time  a-brewing.  Then  while  shaving  the  outline  came  clear 
to  his  mind,  and  he  slashed  his  face  with  his  razor  in  his  eager- 
ness, but  his  lecture  secured  the  hearty  and  grateful  commenda- 
tion of  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon,  who  said:  "If  I  had  heard  such  talk 
as  that  before  I  began  to  preach,  it  would  have  made  a  better 
preacher  of  me." 

The  decision  was  made  in  a  general  way  when  he  awoke  in  the 
morning — that  is,  the  kind  of  sermon  he  would  preach  that  day.  If 
he  was  heavy  and  a  little  cloudy  in  the  higher  faculties,  he  would 
select  a  subject  that  was  in  harmony  with  that  state  of  mind.  If 
he  was  stirred  in  spirit  and  imagination,  a  subject  that  drew  upon 
those  higher  elements,  and  that  ministered  to  the  same  in  others, 
would  be  decided  upon.  There  was  no  approach  to  a  sanctimo- 
nious expression  on  his  face  as  he  came  down  to  the  breakfast- 
table,  and  he  did  not  refuse  to  take  part  in  the  conversation, 
whatever  it  might  be ;  and  very  likely  there  would  some  humor- 
ous remark  drop  from  his  lips,  or  he  would  steal  the  bread 
from  the  plate  of  one  of  the  children  as  usual.  Yet  it  was  all 
done  with  the  air  of  a  man  that  had  something  that  engaged  his 
attention  apart  from  us.  Family  prayers  were  likely  to  be  short 
that  morning,  and  if  there  were  any  of  those  delays  that  sometimes 
occur  in  the  best-regulated  families,  he  would  depute  some  one 
else  to  conduct  them.  And  then  he  locked  himself  in  his  own 
room,  and  for  an  hour  and  a  half  must  be  left  undisturbed, 
except  in  the  case  of  some  imperative  necessity,  and  then  to  be 
approached  by  no  one  but  his  wife.  No  noise  in  the  halls.  The 
hour  of  the  whole  week  had  come  to  him,  and  he  must  have  it 
without  interruption.  Of  course  none  of  us,  and  no  one  but 
God,  ever  saw  him  in  that  hour,  but  we  know  that  then  he  made 
his  final  and  definite  selection  of  a  subject,  perhaps  taking  it  from 
one  of  those  little  note-books  ;  that  he  wrote  with  his  goose-quill 


REV   HENRY  WARD  BEECHER,  599 

pen,  upon  large  sheets  of  paper,  his  introduction  ;  that  he  put 
down  head  after  head,  with  such  opening  as  the  tunc  permitted, 
and  gave  a  word  of  Illustration  here  and  there.  The  vision  stood 
before  him,  and  as  hastily  as  possible  he  sketched  the  outline. 

As  the  bell  began  to  ring  for  the  last  time,  some  fifteen  minutes 
before  the  opening  of  the  service,  he  would  come  out  with  his 
papers  hastily  thrown  together  and  held  in  his  hand,  or  thrust 
into  his  coat-pocket,  and,  with  scarcely  a  word  to  any  one,  put 
on  his  hat,  take  Mrs.  Beecher  on  his  arm,  and  start  for  the 
church. 

This  hour  may  be  shortened.  It  may  be  spent  in  some  other 
place  than  in  his  study,  but  as  a  rule  it  was  had,  this  time  of 
supreme  choice  and  arrangement,  and  jotting  down  the  heads  of 
his  sermon.  As  an  extreme  illustration  of  his  powers  of  making 
all  places  available,  and  to  seize  the  most  outwardly  unpropitious 
surroundings  for  this  final  preparation,  I  can  say  from  personal 
knowledge  that  the  notes  of  the  sermon  which  he  preached  in 
Charleston  in  1865  to  the  thousands  in  Zion  Church,  and  which 
was  one  of  great  scope  and  power,  was  outlined  in  the  outhouse  of 
the  home  where  we  were  stopping,  on  scraps  of  envelopes  which 
he  happened  to  have  with  him.  From  thence  we  went  directly 
to  the  church  and  to  the  delivery  of  that  grand  sermon.  When 
I  spoke  to  him  afterwards  about  the  sermon  and  its  power,  he 
said  :  "  The  vision  came  to  me  there,  and  if  I  could  only  have 
brought  it  out  as  I  saw  it,  it  would  have  been  worth  hearing  ;  but 
I  could  not." 

When  he  preached  upon  the  occasion  of  the  two  hundred 
and  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  founding  of  the  Congregational 
Church  in  Stamford,  he  came  into  my  house  hastily,  stopping 
only  long  enough  to  kiss  his  daughter  as  he  hurried  upstairs.  In 
about  fifteen  minutes  he  came  down,  putting  away  some  notes  in 
his  side-pocket,  and  said  to  her  :  "  Well,  I  have  got  my  sermon 
ready  for  the  evening."  This  was  in  the  forenoon.  Being  pre- 
pared so  long  beforehand,  it  got  cold  before  the  time  for  its  de- 
livery, and  when  he  went  into  the  pulpit  he  felt  barren  and  dry. 
Neither  the  singing  by  the  choir  nor  the  prayer  by  a  brother  minis- 
ter, of  which  he  spoke  afterwards  very  highly,  gave  him  the  desir- 
ed relief,  and  he  sat  with  the  fixed,  settled  expression  of  a  man 
who  is  bound  to  do  his  duty  as  well  as  he  can  ;  but  to  those  who 
knew  him  well  there  was  alack  of  the  light  in  the  eye  and  the 


6oo 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


deep,  full,  restful  look  of  countenance  which  was  marked  in  him 
when  he  was  all  prepared.  It  happened  that  we  had  at  that  time 
a  solo-singer  of  great  richness  and  sweetness  of  voice,  and  she 
sang  for  an  offertory  just  before  preaching,  "  The  Three  Kings 
of  the  Orient."  The  sympathetic  rendering  of  the  words  of  that 
beautiful  solo  smote  the  rock  ;  the  waters  gushed  out  and  suffus- 
ed soul  and  intellect,  and  the  sermon  was  one  of  great  power 
and  beauty. 

Because  of  its  adaptation  to  awaken  devotion  in  his  own 
heart  and  in  the  hearts  of  his  audience  he  valued  organ  music, 
but  it  must  be  rendered  by  one  who  himself  felt  its  power  and 
could  express  this  feeling  through  the-  instrument.  If  the  or- 
ganist failed  in  this,  no  brilliancy  of  execution  nor  facility  in  ren- 
dering popular  tunes  could  atone  for  the  fundamental  lack.  By 
reason  of  John  Zundel's  ability  to  express  and  interpret  religious 
emotion  he  valued  him  above  all  players  that  ever  officiated  at  the 
organ  in  Plymouth  Church.  As  with  the  organ,  so  with  the 
choir.  No  efficiency  in  the  leader  of  the  choir,  in  the  machinery, 
could  atone  for  the  lack  of  appreciation  of  the  devotional  ele- 
ment in  the  music. 

In  the  Scripture-reading  he  was  himself,  feeding  upon  the 
word  which  he  read,  drinking  in  and  appropriating  its  truths  ; 
and  in  the  prayer  he  came  to  the  fountain-head,  to  Christ  Him- 
self, for  refreshing  and  life  power. 

And  now  for  the  sermon  itself.  For  the  first  few  moments 
his  eyes  followed  the  manuscript  closely.  He  seemed  to  be  read- 
ing ;  perhaps  he  was,  and  perhaps  there  were  only  catch  sentences 
upon  the  page  which  he  was  scanning  so  carefully.  He  was 
gathering  his  forces,  getting  under  headway,  making  preparatory 
explanations,  divisions,  and  definitions.  He  will  get  into  the  full, 
rushing  current  of  thought  and  feeling  and  speech  presently. 

We  can  liken  the  whole  process  to  nothing  better  than  the 
descent  of  some  of  our  Western  rivers  under  the  care  of  a  skilful 
guide.  You  get  into  the  boat  in  some  sheltered  cove.  He  takes 
the  oar  and  pushes  out  gently  but  strongly,  points  out  the 
rocks  on  either  side  and  avoids  them,  and  makes  his  way  around 
some  tree-top  that  has  fallen  in  from  the  shore.  Like  to  this 
was  often  Mr.  Beecher's  opening.  The  current  now  is  felt  and 
begins  to  bear  you  along  on  its  bosom,  and  in  that  hour  all  your 
life-experiences  are  gone  over  or  pointed  out   to   you.     You  are 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH  6oi 

in  the  shallows  where  life  seems  poor  and  worthless,  and  tie 
shows  you  how  to  find  the  deeper  channels.  lie  points  out  the 
pleasant  places  on  the  shore,  and  shows  you  where  living  springs 
burst  out  ;  takes  you  under  the  shadow  of  the  lofty  trees  whose 
branches  sweep  clown  within  your  reach,  and  anon  out  under  the 
clear,  sun-lighted  heaven.  Swirls  of  temptation  are  before  you, 
and  he  shows  you  how  to  steer  straight  through  or  how  to  avoid 
them.  You  are  now  in  the  very  rapids,  in  the  rush  of  the  life 
that  for  six  days  in  the  week  is  roaring  around  you,  and  all 
things  seem  to  be  rushing  to  destruction  ;  but  this  man  is  not 
disturbed.  He  is  no  still-water  pilot.  He  has  thoroughly  stud- 
ied that  river  and  knows  all  its  dangers.  Through  the  fiercest 
rapids  that  ever  boat  was  called  upon  to  pass  he  will  guide  you 
safely  ;  over  the  deepest  fall  that  ever  boats  must  venture  he  will 
stand  by  you.  He  goes  with  you  until  he  has  brought  you  into 
some  quiet  spot  of  God's  great  and  present  mercy,  or  perhaps  to 
the  mouth  of  the  river  and  in  sight  of  the  islands  of  the  blest. 
What  a  hand  was  that,  so  gentle,  skilful,  strong  !  What  a  voice, 
so  clear,  tender,  inspiring,  confident  !  What  a  heart,  that  knew 
all  the  ways  of  sorrow  !  What  a  guide  and  helper  he  was  ! 
44  O  my  father  !  my  father  !  the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horse- 
men thereof !" 

In  the  largeness  of  his  audience,  in  his  power  over  them  for 
the  time  being,  there  can  be  no  question  ;  but  how  about  the  per- 
manent results  in  growth  and  strength  of  Christian  character,  in 
making  men  and  women  Christlike  ? — for  this,  as  he  would  be 
first  to  claim,  is  the  only  true  success.  Our  first  witness  here,  of 
course,  must  be  Plymouth  Church,  the  body  that  received  most 
impress  from  the  word  he  preached  and  the  life  he  lived.  One 
of  the  largest  churches  in  the  land,  it  has  been  called  a  drag-net 
"  which  has  been  cast  into  the  sea  and  has  gathered  of  every 
kind."  And  undoubtedly  it  has  its  proportion  of  human  weak- 
ness and  imperfections,  but,  after  making  all  deductions  of  this 
nature,  it  nevertheless  remains  true  that,  tried  by  all  the  tests 
that  can  apply  to  a  church,  it  will  answer  as  well  as  any  that  can  be 
found.  It  has  been  singularly  harmonious  and  free  from  quarrels 
and  contention,  and  that  under  trials  the  like  of  which  few  churches 
have  ever  been  called  to  endure.  Its  failures  in  Christian 
character  have  been  as  few  ;  its  works  have  been  as  broad  and 
beneficent ;  its  weekly  care  to  provide  for  strangers  that  visited 


602 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


it  as  hospitable  ;  its  benevolent  contributions  as  generous,  we 
believe,  as  those  of  any  other  church.  But,  deeper  than  all  this, 
and  better  than  all,  the  spirit  that  has  pervaded  the  church  has 
been  unusually  kind,  helpful,  Christlike. 

It  was  said  that  it  had  no  life  separate  from  Mr.  Beecher. 
But  the  bearing  of  that  body  since  the  death  of  its  pastor  has 
given  an  emphatic  denial  to  that  statement.  From  the  day  that 
his  body  lay  in  state,  and  its  members  gathered  like  a  stricken 
household  around  the  coffin,  the  church,  to  all  outward  appear- 
ances, has  been  growing  more  earnest  in  developing  its  powers, 
more  loving  in  its  spirit.  The  seed  so  long  planted  is  bearing 
fruit,  the  benediction  so  long  resting  upon  it  is  showing  its 
beauty,  and  is  proving  that  indeed  it  is  the  fruit  of  but  one 
thing,  and  that  is  the  Gospel  of  God's  dear  Son,  of  Jesus  the 
Christ. 

But  other  witnesses  rise  up  to  testify — troubled,  weary,  heart- 
broken souls  the  world  over,  who  have  read  the  sermons  as  they 
have  come  to  them  from  Plymouth  pulpit;  and  they  bear  witness 
that  this  one  spake  as  he  was  moved  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  his 
message  was  of  Him  who  came  to  heal  the  sick,  to  raise  the  dead, 
to  set  at  liberty  the  captive. 

We  call  to  the  witness-stand  all  ministers  and  all  denomina- 
tions of  every  name  who  have  ever  read  his  sermons  or  heard 
him  preach,  and  they  will  testify  that  his  message  was  of  God. 

Yea,  we  will  go  beyond  this  circle  and  ask  those  of  other  pur- 
suits— laborers,  workers,  soldiers,  actors — if  there  has  not  shone 
upon  them  something  of  the  light  that  our  Saviour  shed  upon  all 
classes  and  conditions  of  men,  and  their  answer  will  be  unani- 
mously in  the  affirmative.  We  go  beyond  the  personality  of 
men  and  come  into  the  realm  of  beliefs  and  relationships,  and 
affirm,  without  fear  of  denial,  that  theology  is  to-day  more  truth- 
ful, science  more  devout,  religion  more  attractive,  sectarianism 
less  bitter,  churches  more  loving,  politics  purer,  property  more 
humane,  labor  more  faithful,  social  ranks  more  tolerant,  and 
nations  brought  nearer  together,  by  reason  of  the  preaching  of 
the  Gospel  by  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

To  speak  of  Mr.  Beecher  as  a  theologian  will  awaken,  we  are 
well  aware,  a  smile  of  incredulity  with  many.  It  will  be  said  that 
theology  was  not  his  forte;  that  he  seldom  made  use  of  the  term 
except  to  make  fun  of  it,  or  of  those  who  were  its  exponents  and 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEE  CHER  603 

icrs.     Now,  we  acknowledge  that  we  might  give  a  definition 
of  this  science  in  which  he  would  appear  t<>  very  poor  advant 
But  if  theology  can  be  considered  as  the  knowledge  of  God  in 

IIi>  relations  to  living  men  and  to  this  present  world,  then  was 
Mr.  Beecher  a  theologian  excelled  by  few  now  living  or  that  ever 
havelived.  He  had  this  knowledge  of  God.  It  was  as  real  to  him 
as  his  own  existence.  He  had  the  nature  and  order  of  Cod's  at- 
tributes very  (dearly  settled  in  his  own  mind.  He  had  His  rela- 
tions with  the  whole  universe  in  which  lie  dwelt  very  thoroughly 
outlined  in  his  thought.  He  had  his  own  system,  upon  which  he 
worked  from  day  to  day,  which  included  all  existences  and  orders, 
and  all  times,  and  all  worlds  ;  that,  as  he  believed,  had  a  place  for 
all  truth  that  had  ever  been  lived  or  revealed,  and  for  all  that 
ever  should  be  lived  or  revealed,  here,  or  in  Saturn,  or  Sirius,  in 
this  present  time  or  in  the  ages  of  ages.  He  made  a  great  deal 
of  fun  of  theologians,  sometimes  because  of  the  one-sidedness  of 
their  views,  sometimes  because  of  their  dryness,  at  others  be- 
cause of  their  pretensions,  and  partly  because  all  classes  of  men 
were,  in  his  view,  at  times  objects  of  legitimate  mirth-making. 
Yet  nevertheless  he  greatly  valued  them  and  their  work. 

"  Now,  young  gentlemen,"  he  said  in  his  "  Lectures  to  Yale 
Students,"  "  I  have  often  indulged  myself  in  words  that  would 
seem  to  undervalue  theologians  ;  but  you  know  I  do  not  mean  it. 
I  profess  to  be  a  theologian  myself;  my  father  was  a  theologian  ; 
my  brothers  are  all  theologians,  and  so  are  many  men  whom  I 
revere,  and  who  are  the  brightest  lights  of  genius,  I  think,  that 
have  ever  shone  in  the  world.  I  believe  in  theologians,  and 
yet  I  think  it  is  perfectly  fair  to  make  game  of  them  !  I  do  not 
think  there  is  anything  in  this  world,  whether  it  be  man  or  that 
which  is  beneath  a  man,  that  is  not  legitimate  food  for  innocent, 
innocuous  fun  ;  and  if  it  should  cast  a  ray  of  light  on  the  truth 
and  alleviate  the  tediousness  of  a  lecture  now  and  then  to  have  a 
slant  at  theologians,  why,  I  think  they  can  stand  it  !  It  will  not 
hurt  them  and  it  may  amuse  us.  So  let  me  speak  freely — the 
more  so  because  I  affirm  that  it  is  indispensable  for  every  man 
who  is  to  do  a  considerable  religious  work  during  a  long  period, 
or  with  any  degree  of  self-consistency,  to  be  a  theologian.  He 
must  have  method  ;  there  must  be  a  sequence  of  ideas  in  his 
thoughts.  And  if  the  work  runs  long  enough  and  far  enough, 
and  embraces  many  things,  there  must  be  a   system  of  applying 


604  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

means  to  ends,  there  must  be  a  knowledge  of  instruments. 
These  things  are  theology  in  a  sense — a  part  of  it,  at  any  rate." 

Equally  indispensable,  in  his  view,  was  it  that  a  man  have  a 
theology  that  would  change  by  growth  : 

"As  summer  makes  the  tree  so  much  larger  that  the  bark 
has  to  let  out  a  seam,  because  the  old  bark  will  not  do  for  the 
new  growth,  and  as  the  same  thing  takes  place  from  season  to 
season,  so  mental  philosophy — for  all  theology  is  mental  philoso- 
phy— changes  from  age  to  age  through  both  obvious  and  latent 
causes." 

His  bearing  towards  theological  questions  was  largely  decid- 
ed, as  he  tells  us,  by  his  own  religious  experience,  and  by  the 
controversies  which  in  his  early  life  were  raging  around  him  : 

"  In  the  first  place,  let  me  say  that  my  early  religious  experi- 
ence has  colored  all  my  life.  I  was  sympathetic  by  nature,  I  was 
loving,  I  was  mercurial,  I  was  versatile,  I  was  imaginative.  I  was 
not  a  poet  executively,  but  sympathetically  I  was  in  union  with 
the  whole  universal  life  and  beauty  of  God's  world  and  with  all 
human  life.  My  earliest  religious  training  was  at  home.  My 
father's  public  teaching  may  be  called  alleviated  Calvinism. 
Even  under  that  the  iron  entered  my  soul.  There  were  days 
and  weeks  in  which  the  pall  of  death  over  the  universe  could  not 
have  made  it  darker  to  my  eyes  than  those  in  which  I  thought  : 
1  If  you  are  elected  you  will  be  saved,  and  if  you  are  not  elected 
you  will  be  damned,  and  there  is  no  hope  for  you.'  I  wanted  to 
be  a  Christian.  I  went  about  longing  for  God  as  a  lamb  bleating 
longs  for  its  mother's  udder,  and  I  stood  imprisoned  behind 
those  iron  bars  :  *  It  is  all  decreed.  It  is  all  fixed.  If  you  are 
elected  you  will  be  saved  anyhow  ;  if  you  are  not  elected  you 
will  perish.'  While  in  that  state,  and  growing  constantly  and 
warmly  in  sympathy  with  my  father,  in  taking  sides  with  ortho- 
doxy that  was  in  battle  in  Boston  with  Unitarianism,  I  learned  of 
him  all  the  theology  that  was  current  at  that  time.  In  the  quarrels 
also  between  Andover  and  East  Windsor  and  New  Haven  and 
Princeton — I  was  at  home  in  all  these  distinctions.  I  got  the 
doctrines  just  like  a  row  of  pins  on  a  paper  of  pins.  I  knew  them 
as  a  soldier  knows  his  weapons.  I  could  get  them  in  battle  array. 
I  went  from  my  college  life  immediately  to  the  West,  and  there  I 
fell  into  another  fuliginous  Christian  atmosphere  when  the  Old 
School  and  the  New  School  Presbyterians  were  wrangling,  and  the 


RE  l  \  HENR  Y  WARD  BEE  ( 'HER,  605 

Church  was  split,  and  split  oo  the  rock  ol  slavery,  and  my  father 
was  tried  for  believing  that  a  man  could  obey  the  commandments 
of  God,  and  Dr.  Wilson  was  contending  against  him  in  church 
courts  that  men  had  no  ability,  either  moral  or  physical,  to  obey 

God  ;  and  the  line  of  division  ran  all  through  the  State,  and 
there  was  that  tremendous  whirl  of  Old  School  theology,  old 
Calvinism  and  new  Calvinism,  and  by  the  time  I  got  away  from 
the  theological  seminary  I  was  so  sick — no  tongue  can  tell  how 
sick  I  was  of  the  whole  medley.  How  I  despised  and  hated  this 
abyss  of  whirling  controversies  that  seemed  to  me  to  be  filled 
with  all  manner  of  evil  things,  of  everything,  indeed,  but  Christ  ! 
And  then  on  one  memorable  day,  whose  almost  every  cloud  I 
remember,  whose  high  sun  and  glowing  firmament  and  waving 
trees  are  vivid  yet,  there  arose  before  me,  as  if  an  angel  had 
descended,  a  revelation  of  Christ  as  being  God,  because  He 
knew  how  to  love  a  sinner;  not  that  He  would  love  me  when 
I  was  true  and  perfect,  but  because  I  was  so  wicked  that  I  should 
die  if  He  did  not  give  Himself  to  me,  and  so  inconstant  that  I 
never  should  be  steadfast — as  if  He  were  saying  to  me:  '  Because 
you  are  sinful  I  am  yours.'  Before  that  thought  of  a  God  who 
sat  in  the  centre  and  seat  of  power,  that  He  might  bring  glory 
and  restoration  to  everything  that  needed  Him,  I  bowed  down  in 
my  soul,  and  from  that  hour  to  this  it  has  been  my  very  life  to 
love  and  to  serve  the  all-helping  and  pitiful  God."  This  was 
addressed  to  the  association  of  which  he  was  a  member. 

One  who  was  present  wrote  that  while  he  was  saying  this  "he 
seemed  to  lose  consciousness  of  his  audience  ;  his  voice,  although 
clear  and  distinct,  became  low  and  gentle;  he  was  carried  away 
by  one  of  those  very  inspirations  which  he  was  describing ;  and 
when  he  spoke  of  the  revelation  of  Christ  to  himself,  as  one  who 
loved  men  because  they  needed  love,  his  face  underwent  a  mar- 
vellous change  :  it  seemed  transparent  with  a  radiant  light,  like  a 
sunset  glow  on  the  Alps,  while  rapid  and  instantaneous  changes 
of  expression  passed  over  it,  such  as  can  only  be  compared  to 
heat-lightning  silently  playing  over  the  golden  clouds  of  a  sum- 
mer evening." 

From  this  living  experience  there  came  into  existence  an 
order  of  truths.  "  As  I  went  on,  and  more  and  more  tried  to 
preach  Christ,  the  clouds  broke  away  and  I  began  to  have  a  dis- 
tinct   system  in  my    own  mind."     There    grew    up    also   a  very 


606  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

decided  dislike  and  oppugnance  to  much  of  the  theology  that 
was  then  in  vogue,  for  it  seemed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  men 
instead  of  helping  them  : 

"  I  dedicated  myself,  not  to  be  a  fisher  of  ideas,  nor  of  books, 
nor  of  sermons,  but  a  fisher  of  men,  and  in  this  work  I  very  soon 
came  to  the  point  in  which  I  felt  dissatisfied  with  the  views  of 
God  that  had  been  before  given.  I  felt  dissatisfied  with  that 
whole  realm  of  theology  which  I  now  call  the  machinery  of  reli- 
gion, which  has  in  it  some  truth,  and  I  would  it  had  more.  But 
I  came  to  have  this  feeling,  that  it  stood  in  the  way  of  sinful 
men.  I  found  men  in  distress,  in  peril  of  soul,  on  account  of 
views  which  I  did  not  believe  were  true,  or,  if  true,  not  in  any 
such  proportion.  If  you  want  to  know  why  I  have  been  fierce 
against  theology,  that  is  it :  because  I  thought  with  Mary,  and  I 
said  time  and  again,  'They  have  taken  away  my  Lord,  and  I 
know  not  where  they  have  laid  Him.'  It  seemed  to  me  that  men 
could  not  believe  in  such  a  God  as  I  heard  preached  about,  that 
men  could  not  believe  such  a  schedule  of  truth  as  I  had  seen 
crystallized  and  promoted  among  men.  I  do  not  care  the  turn 
of  my  hand  about  a  man's  philosophy  ;  I  do  not  care  about  one 
system  or  another  ;  any  system  that  will  bring  a  man  from  dark- 
ness to  faith  and  love  I  will  tolerate  ;  and  any  system  that  lets 
down  the  curtain  between  God'  and  men,  whether  it  is  canonical 
priest  or  church  service  or  church  methods,  whether  it  is  the 
philosophical  or  theological — anything  that  blurs  the  presence  of 
God,  anything  that  makes  the  heavens  black  and  the  heart  hope- 
less, I  will  fight  it  to  the  death." 

But  how  about  his  orthodoxy?  He  says  :  "I  hold  there  is 
but  one  orthodoxy,  and  that  all  others  are  bastard  orthodoxies. 
The  orthodoxy  of  the  heart,  that  loves  God,  and  loves  man  to  such 
an  extent  that  it  is  willing  to  suffer  for  him,  and  to  endure  hard- 
ship for  the  sake  of  the  love  it  bears  to  men — that  is  the  true 
orthodoxy,  and  there  is  none  other." 

He  said  in  an  address  given  at  a  meeting  of  Congregational 
ministers  in  London  in  September,  1886  : 

"  I  think  I  am  as  orthodox  a  man  as  there  is  in  this  world. 
Well,  what  are  the  tests  of  orthodoxy?  Man  universally  is  a 
sinner  ;  man  universally  needs  to  be  born  again  ;  there  is  in  the 
nature  of  God  that  power  and  influence  that  can  convert  a  man 
and  redeem  him  from  his  animal  life  ;  and  it  is  possible  for  man 


Rt  I '.  liEXR  Y  WA  HD  BEE  c '//.  \  A\ 

so  to  bring  to  bear  this  divine  influence  in  the  ministration  of  the 
pel  as  that  men  shall  be  awakened,  and  convicted,  and  con- 
verted, and  built  up  in  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ.     There  is  my 
orthodoxy.     But  how  about  the  Trinity?     1  do  not  understand 

it,  but  1  accept  it.  If  anybody  else  understands  it  I  have  not 
met  him  yet  ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  that  is  the  easiest  way  of 
rendering  the  different  testimonies  or  words  of  truth  in  the  New- 
Testament,  neither  do  I  see  any  philosophical  objection  to  it  at 
all,  and  I  accept  it  without  questioning.  What  about  original 
sin  ?  There  has  been  so  much  actual  transgression  that  I  have 
not  had  time  to  go  back  on  to  that.  On  what  grounds  may  a 
man  hope  ?  On  the  atonement  of  Christ  ?  Yes,  if  you  want  to 
interpose  that  word,  atonement,  on  that  ground,  unquestionably, 
I  am  accustomed  to  say  Christ  saves  men.  But  how  ?  That  is 
His  look-out,  not  mine.  I  think  that  because  the  nature  of  God 
is  sanative,  God  is  love.  '  If  ye,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give 
good  gifts  to  your  children,  how  much  more  shall  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven  give  good  gifts  to  them  which  ask  Him  ?'  If 
you  choose  to  fix  it  in  this  way,  and  say  that  Christ  saw  it  possi- 
ble to  do  thus  and  so,  and  that  was  the  atonement  He  made — if 
you  take  any  comfort  in  it,  I  shall  not  quarrel  with  you.  But  it 
is  enough  for  me  to  know  this,  that  Jesus  Christ,  God  in  the  flesh, 
has  proclaimed,  to  whosoever  will,  health,  lffe,  new  life — '  born 
again.'  He  has  offered  these,  and  therefore  I  no  more  want 
to  question  how  he  does  it  than  a  sick  man  questions  the  doctor 
before  he  takes  a  pill.  If  he  says,  '  Doctor,  what  is  in  it  ? '  the 
doctor  says,  '  Take  it  and  you  will  find  out  what  is  in  it.'  If 
men  think  I  am  heterodox  because  I  do  not  believe  this,  that, 
and  the  other  explanation  of  the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ,  it  is 
enough  for  me  to  say  I  believe  in  Christ,  and  I  believe  Christ  is 
atonement.  Now,  if  you  ask  me  whether  I  believe  in  the  divinity 
of  Christ,  I  do  not  believe  in  anything  else.  Let  a  man  stand 
and  look  at  the  sun,  then  ask  him  what  he  sees  beside.  Nothing: 
it  blinds  him.  There  is  nothing  else  to  me  when  I  am  thinking 
of  God  :  it  fills  the  whole  sphere,  the  heaven  of  heavens,  and  the 
whole  earth  and  all  time ;  and  out  of  that  boundlessness  of  love 
and  that  infiniteness  of  divine  faculty  and  capacity  it  seems  to  me 
that  He  is,  to  my  thought,  what  summer  is  when  I  see  it  march- 
ing on  after  the  cold  winter  is  over.  I  know  where  the  light 
comes  from  and  where  the  warmth  comes  from.    When  I  see  any- 


60S  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

thing  going  on  for  good  and  for  the  staying  of  evil  I  know  it  is 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  and  the  name  to  me  is  Jesus — every 
time  Jesus.  For  Him  I  live,  for  Him  I  love,  for  Him  I  labor,  for 
Him  I  rejoice  in  my  remaining  strength,  for  Him  I  thank  God 
that  I  have  yet  so  much  in  me  that  can  spend  and  be  spent  for 
the  only  one  great  cause,  which  should  lift  itself  above  every 
other  cause  in  this  whole  world.'* 

Concerning  one  other  doctrine,  future  punishment,  he  states 
his  belief  as  follows  : 

"  I  have  my  own  philosophical  theories  about  the  future  life  ; 
but  what  is  revealed  to  my  mind  is  simply  this :  The  results  of  a 
man's  conduct  reach  over  into  the  other  world  on  those  that  are 
persistently  and  inexcusably  wicked,  and  man's  punishment  in 
the  life  to  come  is  of  such  a  nature  and  of  such  dimensions  as 
ought  to  alarm  any  man  and  put  him  off  from  the  dangerous 
ground  and  turn  him  toward  safety.  I  do  not  think  we  are  au- 
thorized by  the  Scriptures  to  say  that  it  is  endless  in  the  sense  in 
which  we  ordinarily  employ  that  term.  So  much  for  that,  and 
that  is  the  extent  of  my  authoritative  teaching  on  that  subject." 

From  his  life-long  interest  in  material  science  it  may  well  be 
supposed  that  he  watched  the  development  of  the  theory  of  evo- 
lution with  the  greatest  eagerness.  It  was  not,  in  substance,  un- 
known to  him  : 

"  Slowly,  and  through  a  whole  fifty  years,  I  have  been  under 
the  influence,  first  obscurely,  imperfectly,  of  the  great  doctrine 
of  evolution.  In  my  earliest  preaching  I  discerned  that  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  a  leaven,  not  only  in  the  individual  soul 
but  in  the  world  ;  the  kingdom  is  as  a  grain  of  mustard-seed.  I 
was  accustomed  to  call  my  crude  notion  a  seminal  theory  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  in  this  world.  Later  I  began  to  feel  that  sci- 
ence had  struck  a  larger  view,  and  that  this  unfolding  of  seed 
and  blade  and  ear  in  spiritual  things  was  but  one  application  of 
a  great  cosmic  doctrine  which  underlay  God's  methods  in  uni- 
versal creation,  and  was  notably  to  be  seen  in  the  whole  develop- 
ment of  human  society  and  human  thought.  That  great  truth — 
through  patient  accumulations  of  fact,  and  marvellous  intuitions 
of  reason,  and  luminous  expositions  of  philosophic  relation,  by 
men  trained  in  observation,  in  thinking,  and  in  expression — has 
now  become  accepted  throughout  the  scientific  world.  Certain 
parts  of  it  yet  are  in  dispute,  but  substantially  it  is  the  doctrine 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  609 

Of  the  scientific  world.      And  that  it  will  furnish — nay,  is  already 

bringing — to  the  aid  of  religious  truth  as  set  forth  in  the  Life  and 

teachings  of  Jesus  Christ  a  new  and  powerful  aid,  fully  in  line 
with  other  marked  developments  of  God's  providence  in  this  His 
world,   1  fervently  believe." 

He  had  great  hope  from  the  influence  he  felt  certain  it  would 
exert  : 

"  The  theology  that  is  rising  upon  the  horizon  will  still  rise. 
I  cannot  hope  that  it  will  be  the  perfect  theology,  but  it  will  be 
a  regenerated  one,  and  I  think  far  more  powerful  than  the  old — 
a  theology  of  hope,  and  of  love,  which  shall  cast  out  fear.  Nay, 
more,  it  is  to  be  a  theology  that  will  run  nearer  to  the  spirit  and 
form  of  Christ's  own  teachings,  He  who  found  the  tenderness  of 
Divine  Providence  in  the  opening  lilies  of  the  field,  and  the 
mighty  power  of  God's  kingdom  in  the  unfolding  of  germ  and 
leaf  and  fruit." 

Mr.  Beecher's  view  of  ordinances  was  in  harmony  with  his 
practical  view  of  preaching  and  of  theology.  To  his  mind  the 
ordinance  was  appointed  by  God  because  it  helped  men,  and  was 
to  be  continued  on  that  same  ground,  and  the  form  best  suited 
to  that  end  was  the  one  he  adopted.  The  form  of  church  govern- 
ment and  of  administration  of  ordinances  was  left  uncertain,  be- 
cause it  was  to  be  adapted  to  the  peculiar  conditions  of  the  times 
or  the  circumstances  of  people.  It  was  of  principle  rather  than 
of  rule.  It  was  the  expression  of  the  new  life  rather  than  of 
any  artificial  arrangement.  Hence  he  believed  that  different 
forms  of  church  government  and  different  methods  of  admin- 
istering ordinances  were  equally  Scriptural,  and  to  be  adopted 
without  controversy  if  they  secured  the  end  in  view — the  bringing 
into  and  training  up  of  men  in  Christ  Jesus — and  equally  antago- 
nistic to  the  New  Testament  view  when  they  were  a  mere  form. 

But  of  this  he  himself  has  spoken  somewhat  at  length  : 

"  Now,  there  is  one  more  thing  that  I  want  to  say  something 
about — that  is,  church  economy,  ordination,  and  ordinance.  I 
regard  it  as  true  that  there  is  laid  down  in  the  New  Testament 
no  form  of  church  government  whatever  nor  of  church  ordinance 
— none.  Paul  did  not  see  the  outlines  of  the  Church;  they  grew, 
they  developed  out  of  the  nature  of  things.  And  so  I  say,  in 
regard  to  all  church  worship,  that  is  the  best  form  of  church 
economy  that   in   the  long  run  helps  men  to  be   the  best   Chris- 


6io 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


tians.  Whatever  thing  is  found  when  applied  to  human  nature 
to  do  good,  that  is  God's  ordinance.  If  there  are  any  men  that 
worship  God  through  the  Roman  Catholic  Church — and  there 
are — I  say  this  in  regard  to  them:  'I  cannot,  but  you  can;  God 
bless  you  !'  In  that  great,  venerable  church  there  is  Gospel 
enough  to  save  any  man,  no  man  need  perish  for  want  of  light 
and  truth  in  that  system;  and  yet  what  an  economy  it  is,  what  an 
organization,  what  burdens,  and  how  many  lurking  mischiefs  that 
temptation  will  bring  out  !  I  could  never  be  a  Roman  Catholic, 
but  I  could  be  a  Christian  in  a  Roman  Catholic  Church;  I  could 
serve  God  there.  I  believe  in  the  Episcopacy — for  those  that 
want  it.  Let  my  tongue  forget  its  cunning  if  I  ever  speak  a 
word  adverse  to  that  church  that  brooded  my  mother,  and  now 
broods  some  of  the  nearest  blood  kindred  I  have  on  earth.  It  is 
a  man's  own  fault  if  he  do  not  find  salvation  in  the  teachings  and 
worship  of  the  great  Episcopal  body  of  the  world.  I  was  for  ten 
years  a  member  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  for  I  swore  to  the 
Confession  of  Faith  ;  but  at  that  time  my  beard  had  not  grown. 
The  rest  of  the  Book  of  Worship  has  great  wisdom  in  it,  and, 
rather  than  not  have  any  brotherhood,  I  would  be  a  Presbyterian 
again  if  they  would  not  oblige  me  to  swear  to  the  Confession  of 
Faith.  On  the  other  hand,  my  birthright  is  in  the  Congregational 
Church.  I  was  born  in  it,  it  ■  exactly  agreed  with  my  tempera- 
ment and  my  ideas;  and  it  does  yet,  for  although  it  is  in  many 
respects  slow-moulded,  although  in  many  respects  it  has  not  the 
fascinations  in  its  worship  that  belong  to  the  high  ecclesiastical 
organizations,  though  it  makes  less  for  the  eye  and  less  for  the 
ear,  and  more  for  the  reason  and  the  emotions,  though  it  has 
therefore  slender  advantages,  it  has  this  :  that  it  does  not  take 
men  because  they  are  weak  and  crutch  them  up  upon  its  wor- 
ship, and  then  just  leave  them  as  weak  after  forty  years  as  they 
were  when  it  found  them.  A  part  of  its  very  idea  is  so  to  meet 
the  weakness  of  men  as  that  they  shall  grow  stronger  ;  to  preach 
the  truth  and  then  wait  till  they  are  able  to  seize  that  truth  and 
live  by  it.  It  works  slowly,  but  I  tell  you  that  when  it  has 
finished  its  work  it  makes  men  in  the  community." 

"  I  immerse,  I  sprinkle,  and  I  have  in  some  instances  poured, 
and  I  never  saw  there  was  any  difference  in  the  Christianity  that 
was  made.  They  have  all,  for  that  matter,  come  out  so  that  I 
should  not  know  which  was  immersed  or  which  was  sprinkled. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  6 J  I 

"  1'hc  unity  of  Christians  does  not  depend  upon  similarity  of  or- 
dinance or  methods  of  worship.  It  is  a  hard  business.  1  do  not  be- 
lieve the  millennium  will  see  one  sect,  one  denomination,  any  more 
than  the  perfection  of  civilization  will  see  only  one  great  phalans- 
tery, one  family.  The  man  on  this  side  of  the  street  keeps  house 
in  one  way,  and  the  man  over  on  the  other  side  keeps  house  in 
another.  They  do  not  quarrel  ;  each  lets  the  other  alone.  S 
hold  about  churches.  The  unity  of  the  Church  is  to  be  the  unity 
of  the  hearts  of  men — spiritual  unity  in  the  love  of  Christ  and 
in  the  love  of  each  other.  Do  not,  then,  meddle  with  the  details 
of  the  way  in  which  different  persons  choose  to  conduct  their 
service.  Let  them  alone  ;  behave  at  least  as  decently  in  the 
church  of  Christ  as  you  would  do  in  your  neighborhood  and  in 
each  other's  families.  I  do  not  know  why  they  should  not  con- 
currently work  in  all  the  great  causes  of  God  among  mankind.  I 
am  not,  therefore,  to  teach  Congregationalism,  I  am  not  to  teach 
the  Baptist  doctrine,  I  am  not  to  teach  Presbyterianism  ;  I  am  to 
preach  '  O  ye  that  are  lost  by  reason  of  your  sins,  Jesus  Christ 
has  found  a  ransom  for  you  ;  come,  come,  and  ye  shall  live.' 
That  is  my  message,  and  in  that  I  have  enthusiasm.  It  is  not  to 
build  up  one  church  or  another  church,  or  to  cry  down  one 
church  or  another.  Brethren,  we  have  been  trying  conscience  for 
a  great  while  ;  what  have  we  got  by  it  ?  About  one  hundred  and 
fifty  denominations.  There  is  nothing  so  unmanageable  as  a 
conceited  conscience-  Now,  suppose  we  should  try  another 
thing;  suppose  we  should  try  love  a  little  while;  suppose  we 
should  try  sympathy,  trust,  fellowship,  brotherhood,  without 
inquisitorial  power ;  suppose  we  should  let  men's  theologies 
take  care  of  themselves,  and  bring  this  test  to  bear  upon 
them  :  What  is  the  fruit  of  their  personal  living,  and  what  is  the 
fruit  of  their  personal  teaching  ?  '  By  their  fruits  shall  ye  know 
them '  did  not  exhaust  itself  in  personal  thought  alone.  It  is  a 
good  test  for  denominationalism,  and  whenever  I  find  a  denomi- 
nation that  puts  emphasis  upon  holiness,  where  there  is  no  envy, 
nor  detraction,  nor  backbiting,  nor  suspicion,  nor  holding  each 
man  to  philosophical  schedules,  when  I  find  a  denomination  in 
which  they  are  full  of  love  and  gentleness  and  kindness,  I  am 
going  to  join  that  denomination.  But  I  do  not  expect  to  change 
for  some  time." 

His  estimate  of  sectarianism  was  very  low  : 


6 1  2  BIOGRAPH  Y  OF 

"  The  selfishness  that  inheres  in  the  very  elements  of  secta- 
rianism is  radically  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel.  Love 
works  from  within  outward.  Selfishness  or  sectarianism  works 
from  without  inward.  One  is  centrifugal,  the  other  is  centripe- 
tal. The  only  difference  between  a  pious  denominational  spirit 
and  sectarianism  is  the  difference  between  a  cub  and  a  full- 
grown  wolf.  You  may  baptize  your  wolf  every  year  with  what 
soft  names  you  please  ;  it  is  a  wolf  still,  that  will  never  cease  to 
make  havoc  on  the  flock.  As  for  ourselves,  in  all  this  tumult  of 
men  running  up  and  down  throughout  the  vast  and  misty  realm 
of  ecclesiasticism,  we  will  none  of  it.  There  is  a  fairer  realm, 
there  are  brighter  skies,  distilling  selecter  influences.  We  are 
well  satisfied  that  this  world  will  never  behold  any  earthly  force 
so  great  as  the  heart  of  man  irradiated  by  the  fire  of  Christ,  and 
turned  in  all  its  warmth  upon  men  ;  hence  our  prayer  for  our 
brethren  shall  not  be  for  esprit  de  corps  but  for  esprit  de  Christ." 

And  so,  wherever  he  was,  we  find  him  bearing  one  charac- 
ter. In  the  matter  of  rituals  he  grasped  the  reality,  as  he 
thought,  and,  looking  at  men  on  either  side  of  him,  asking,  not 
surrender  of  principle,  but  charity.  And  all  sects  found  that 
they  had  something  in  common  with  him. 

In  doctrines,  while  accused  of  heresy,  yet,  when  making  a  full 
statement  of  his  belief  before  the  New  York  and  Brooklyn  Asso- 
ciation, or  the  meeting  of  Congregational  ministers  in  England, 
his  views  received  the  heartiest  commendation  from  men  of  all 
shades  of  opinion  ;  while  as  a  preacher  what  multitudes  of  every 
class  and  of  all  sects  have  been  brought  together  in  Plymouth 
Church  ! 

Among  parties,  except  when  in  the  very  onset,  it  was  the 
same.  When  the  battle  had  been  fought,  not  a  blow  more  than 
was  necessary  to  secure  the  victory,  not  an  act  for  revenge.  In 
the  very  midst  of  the  war  of  the  Rebellion,  in  1862,  as  we  have 
already  mentioned,  he  said,  "I  think  I  never  pray  for  the  loyal 
States  without  praying,  at  least  in  thought,  if  not  in  utterance,  for 
those  misguided  men  in  the  South  that  wage  this  rebellion  ;  and, 
let  me  tell  you,  I  have  a  tender  place  in  my  heart  for  them." 
And  when  the  war  had  ceased  he  stood  up  for  what  he  deemed 
best  for  their  prosperity,  at  the  loss,  for  the  moment,  of  a  great 
deal  of  his  popularity  at  the  North.  In  England  he  plead, 
with  no  tones  of  fear  but  with  manly  words,  for  peace  between 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  6  1  3 

the  mother  and  daughter.  In  this  age  of  spiritual  growth  on 
one  side  and  materialistic  tendencies  on  the  other,  Mr.  Beecher, 
born  with  an  intense  love  tor  nature,  given  a  surpassingly  deep 

and  rich  Christian  experience,  and  reconciling  them  both  in  him- 
self, and  feeling  that  each  interprets  and  enriches  the  other,  and 
both  are  unified  in  Him  who  is  the  head  over  all,  became — he 
was  raised  up  for  that  purpose — a  mediator  between  the  deep- 
est spiritual  experience  and  the  most  advanced  stage  of  real 
science. 

( )ne  scene  illustrates  his  true  position — the  place  he  has 
held  between  many  diversities,  and  the  one  that  we  are  sure 
will  be  more  and  more  recognized  as  his  as  the  years  go  by.  It 
was  when  the  delegates  from  England  were  presenting  their  cre- 
dentials to  the  National  Council  of  Congregationalists  in  Boston,  at 
about  the  close  of  the  war.  There  was  a  very  sore  feeling  in  the 
hearts  of  many  of  the  loyal  people  of  the  North  at  the  position  of 
antagonism  that  their  brethren  in  England  and  Wales  had  taken  in 
the  great  Rebellion,  and  it  happened  that  the  delegates  present  had 
belonged  very  decidedly  to  the  obnoxious  side.  The  question 
was  upon  receiving  them,  and  several  speeches  had  been  made, 
and  it  seemed  that  a  very  unpleasant  result  would  be  reached. 
At  last  Mr.  Beecher  was  recognized  and  called  to  the  platform. 
In  a  few  words  he  described  the  situation,  represented  the  failure 
of  each  side  in  the  great  matter  of  Christian  charity,  showed 
how  grand  an  opportunity  was  given  to  illustrate  this  highest  of 
Christian  virtues,  and  closed  by  reaching  down  and  clasping  a 
hand  of  each  delegate,  while  the  whole  audience  of  venerable 
ministers  and  delegates  arose  and  showed  their  delight  by  cheers 
and  waving  of  handkerchiefs.  It  was  his  rightful  place,  won 
by  years  of  patient  charity.  Other  names  have  been  given  him. 
He  has  been  called  Reformer,  War  Trumpet,  Popular  Lecturer, 
Preacher.  They  are  all  good,  but  we  lift  a  name  that  we  never 
remember  to  have  seen  applied  to  him,  but  which  is  his  by  right, 
which  represents  the  resultant  of  all  his  life  of  toil  and  battle — 
the  name  which  belongs  to  him  as  to  but  few  men  that  ever  lived 
— and  place  it  lovingly  upon  his  brow,  while  our  eyes  long  for 
the  look  which  he  used  to  give  :  the  name  "  Peacemaker  "  ;  and 
the  familiar  words  come  with  a  new  significance  as  if  spoken  for 
him,  "  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,  for  they  shall  be  called  the  chil- 
dren of  God." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Love  of  the  Country — Communion  with  Nature — Farming  at  Salisbury 
Lenox — Matteawan — The  Peekskill  Farm. 


LIKE  the  fabled  Antaeus  of  old,  Mr.  Beecher  found  strength 
by  contact  with  old  Mother  Earth  ;  not  only  that,  but 
rest,  health,  and  inspiration  ;  while  from  the  study  of  nat- 
ural processes,  in  which  he  delighted,  he  gained  a  deep  insight 
into  the  beautiful  and,  to  so  many  eyes,  hidden  mysteries  of  na- 
ture, which  was  a  never-failing  source  of  comfort  and  pleasure  to 
him  through  all  his  life — a  rich  treasury,  from  which  he  drew  so 
much  of  that  illustrative  imagery  which  illuminated  and  beautified 
his  writings  and  speeches.  If  Earth  was  the  mother,  Nature  was 
the  grandmother,  equally  beloved  and  loving.  Nothing  that  came 
from  her  hands  was  uninteresting  ;  each  and  every  of  her  children 
found  a  true  and  faithful  brother  in  Mr.  Beecher,  to  whom  in 
turn  they  showed  that  trust  and  confidence  that  opened  up  to  him 
such  glorious  visions,  such  secrets,  full  of  exquisite  beauty,  vouch- 
safed to  but  few  among  mankind.  Of  course  he  was  fond  of  fish- 
ing and  hunting.  Not  that  he  ever  shot  or  caught  anything  :  he 
was  generally  innocent  of  any  such  charge.  He  loved  to  tramp 
the  woods,  and  stroll  along  the  brookside,  ostensibly  hunting  or 
fishing,  but  really  communing  with  nature.  The  gun  and  rod 
were  only  for  pretext.     We  take  his  own  confessions  : 

"But,  aside  from  the  pleasure  which  arises  in  connection 
with  seeking  or  taking  one's  prey,  we  suspect  that  the  collateral 
enjoyments  amount,  often,  to  a  greater  sum  than  all  the  rest  : 
the  early  rising,  the  freshness  of  those  morning  hours  preceding 
the  sun,  which  few  anti-piscatory  critics  know  anything  about  ; 
that  wondrous  early-morning  singing  of  birds,  compared  to  which 
all  after-day  songs  are  mere  ejaculations — for  such  is  the  tumult 
and  superabundance  of  sweet  noise,  soon  after  four  o'clock  in 
summer,  that  one  would  think  that  if  every  dewdrop  were  a  mu- 
sical note,  and  the  bird  shad  drank  them  all,  they  could  not  have 
been  more  multitudinous  or  delicious.    Then  there  is  that  incom- 

6i4 


RE  \ '.  Ill:  NR  V  WARD  BEL  I  'Hi  R.  6 1 5 

parable  sense  of  freedom  which  one  has  in  remote  fields,  in  for- 
ests, and  along  the  streams.     His  heart,  trained  in  life  to  play 

with  jets,  like  an  artificial  fountain,  seems,  as  he  wanders  along 
the  streams,  to  resume  its  own  liberty,  and,  like  a  meadow-brook, 
to  wind  and  turn,  amid  (lowers  and  fringing  shrubs,  at  its  own 
unmolested  pleasure. 

" Care  and  trouble,  in  ordinary  life,  and  especially  in  cities 
disturb  the  fountains  of  feeling,  as  rubbish  fallen  into  the  foun- 
tains of  ruined  cities  in  the  East  chokes  them,  or  splits  and  scat- 
ters their  streams  through  all  secret  channels. 

"  One  who  believes  God  to  have  made  the  world,  and  to  have 
expressed  His  own  tastes  and  thoughts  in  the  making,  cannot 
express  what  feelings  those  are  which  speak  music  through  his 
heart.  A  little  plant  growing  in  silent  simplicity  in  some  covert 
spot,  or  looking  down  upon  him  from  out  of  a  rift  in  some  rock 
uplifted  high  above  his  reach  or  climbing — what  has  it  said  to 
him,  that  he  stops  and  gazes  as  if  he  saw  more  than  material 
forms  ?  What  is  that  rush  of  feeling  in  his  heart,  and  that  strange 
opening  up  of  thoughts,  as  if  a  revelation  had  been  made  to  him  ? 
Who  that  has  a  literal  eye  could  see  anything  but  that  solitary 
flower  casting  a  linear  shadow  on  the  side  of  the  gray  rock — a 
shadow  that  loves  to  quiver,  and  nod,  and  dance  to  every  step 
which  the  wind-blown  flower  takes  ?  But  this  floral  preacher  up 
in  that  pulpit  has  many  a  time  preached  tears  into  my  eyes,  and 
told  me  more  than  I  was  ever  able  to  tell  again. 

"  Indeed,  in  many  and  many  a  tramp  the  best  sporting  was 
done  on  my  back.  Flat  under  a  tree  we  lay,  a  vast  Brobdingnag, 
upon  whom  grasshoppers  mounted,  and  glossy  crickets  crept, 
harmless,  with  evident  speculation  of  what  such  a  phenomenon 
could  portend.  Along  the  stems  creep  aspiring  ants,  searching 
with  fiery  zeal  for  no  one  can  even  tell  what.  The  bluejay  is  in  the 
tree  above  you.  The  woodpecker  screws  round  and  round  the 
trunk,  hammering  at  every  place  like  an  auscult  doctor  sounding 
a  patient's  lungs.  Little  birds  fly  in  and  about,  gibbering  to  each 
other  in  sweet  little  detached  sentences,  confidentially  talking 
over  their  family  secrets,  and  expressing  those  delicate  sentiments 
which  one  never  speaks  above  a  whisper  in  twilight.  When  you 
rise,  the  birds  flutter  and  fly,  and  clouds  of  insects  fly  off  from 
you  like  sparks  from  a  fire  when  a  logrolls  over.  The  brook  that 
gurgled  past  the  tree,  feeding  its  roots,  and  taking  its  pay  in  sum- 


6  1 6  BIO  GRA  PII Y  OF 

mer  shadows,  varied  every  hour,  receives  a  portion  of  out-jump- 
ing fry.  Far  off  their  coming  shines.  But  before  they  had  even 
touched  the  water,  that  bold  trout  sprung  sparkling  from  the  sur- 
face and  sunk  as  soon,  leaving  only  a  few  bubbles  to  float  down. 
There  !  if  the  trout  has  a  right  to  his  grasshopper,  have  I  not  a 
right  to  the  trout  ?  I'll  have  him  !  After  several  throws  I  find 
that  it  takes  two  to  make  a  bargain. 

"  At  length  one  must  go  home.  I  never  turn  from  the  silence 
of  the  underbrush,  or  the  solitude  of  the  fields,  or  the  rustlings  of 
the  forest,  without  a  certain  sadness  as  if  I  were  going  away  from 
friends." 

Flowers  and  birds  were  his  delight.  Every  spring  he  watched 
almost  impatiently  for  the  first  arbutus,  anemone,  bloodroot,  and 
violet,  and  enjoyed  their  short  stay  with  an  intensity  that  years 
increased  rather  than  abated.  The  first  song  of  the  robin,  the 
first  plaintive  note  of  the  bluebird,  and  the  sweet  lay  of  the  song- 
sparrow  were  each  year  listened  for,  and  eagerly  announced  to 
the  family  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  early  boyhood.  Through 
the  summer  he  watched  and  cared,  with  tender  solicitude,  for  the 
roses,  lilies,  dahlias,  and  chrysanthemum,  with  the  many,  many 
other  of  the  flower- world  which  he  always  had  about  him.  And 
as  each  in  its  turn  lived  out  its  short  span,  faded,  and  fell,  he 
watched  the  scattering  petals  almost  mournfully,  finding  consola- 
tion only  in  the  certainty  of  their  return  another  year. 

Each  season  with  its  many  changing  moods  was  a  living  alle- 
gory to  him. 

Spring  was  the  young  child  just  born,  full  of  smiles,  of 
tears,  and  winsome  ways — the  beginnings  of  life.  Summer  was 
early  maturity,  in  which  the  first  promises  of  fruitage  were  be- 
ginning to  be  fulfilled.  Steadier  and  more  sober,  with  increas- 
ing responsibilities.  Fall  perfected  maturity  with  its  full  fruit- 
age. Early  winter,  extreme  old  age,  lingering  at  the  threshold 
of  the  grave.  Midwinter,  nature's  death,  which,  like  the  soul's, 
ends  not  in  destruction,  but  only  rests  awhile  to  awaken  into  a 
more  glorious  resurrection. 

Nature  was  to  him  God's  book  wide  open,  each  leaf  free  and 
unbound,  filled  with  that  which  comforted  his  soul  and  confirm- 
ed his  faith. 

Not  even  in  evolution,  that  bugbear  of  so  many  of  his  cleri- 
cal brethren,  did  he  find  anything  to  disturb  his  trust  in   God, 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  0  I  7 

his  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  or  his  confidence  in  the  Bible, 
as  life's  guide-book  ;  but  quite  the  contrary.  He  found  his  trust, 
his  faith  and  confidence,  strengthened  and  enlightened  thereby. 

Many  rough  places  were  smoothed,  many  dark  spots  enlight- 
ened. 

In  it  he  saw  the  highest  proof  of  God's  wonderful  wisdom. 
A  mind  that  eould  conceive,  perfect,  and  put  into  operation  so 
wonderful,  so  simple  and  yet  effective  a  natural  law,  could  only 
be  divine. 

It  is  not  strange  that,  with  his  tastes  and  feelings,  a  plot  of 
land  to  cultivate  became  early  a  necessity.  While  not  exactly 
41  brought  up  "  on  a  farm,  he  was  brought  into  intimate  relation 
with  most  forms  of  farm-labor.  The  small  plot  of  land  around 
his  father's  house  furnished  the  field  for  quite  a  little  practical 
farming.  For  in  New  England  every  one  was  expected  to  raise 
the  greater  part  of  his  own  vegetables,  and  the  boys,  as  soon  as 
they  were  big  enough  to  run  around,  were  expected  to  contribute 
their  little  quota  towards  the  common  good. 

It  was  not  until  he  was  settled  in  Indianapolis  that  Mr. 
Beecher  owned  a  plot  of  his  own  large  enough  for  flowers,  fruit, 
and  vegetables.  There  he  worked  daily,  finding  rest  from  his 
head-work,  fresh  air,  and  healthful  exercise,  which  would  alone 
have  more  than  repaid  him  for  all  expense  or  trouble.  Rising 
before  five  in  the  summer,  he  was  out  in  his  garden  when  most 
of  his  neighbors  were  enjoying  the  sweet  unconsciousness  of 
their  morning  naps.  Aside  from  the  big  dividend  of  increased 
health  and  vigor,  he  was  further  rewarded  by  unusual  success  in 
raising  small  fruits  and  flowers.  His  roses  were  a  revelation  to 
the  community,  and  lent  their  fragrance  to  many  an  humble 
home  or  sick-room.  For  fruit  and  flowers  did  pastoral  duty, 
cheering  the  sick,  brightening  the  dark  side  of  life  in  many  a 
poverty-cramped  family  ;  while  the  impulse  along  the  line  of 
taste  and  love  for  the  beautiful,  and  the  feeling  of  the  dignity  of 
honest  labor,  which  he  gave  to  the  whole  community,  we  are  told 
is  still  felt,  and  will  long  be  remembered  as  a  souvenir  of  his 
pastorate  in  Indianapolis. 

His  contributions  to  the  theory  of  gardening  and  farming  in 
the  Indiana  Farmer  and  Gardener  we  have  already  referred  to 
in  an  earlier  chapter. 

During  the  first  few  years  of  his  Brooklyn  pastorate  he  does 


6l8  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

not  seem  to  have  had  the  time  to  look  about  for  any  place  in 
which  to  practise  his  favorite  avocation. 

Of  course  the  crowded  condition  of  city  life  precluded  the 
possibility  of  having  either  farm  or  garden  near  his  home.  He 
was  accustomed  then  to  visit  among  friends  a  part  of  the  time, 
spending  the  bulk  of  the  summer  in  some  picturesque  place. 

The  earliest  bit  of  country  that  lies  within  our  memory  was 
Salisbury,  in  Connecticut,  where  Mr.  Beecher  spent  the  summers 
of  1852  and  1853. 

We  remember  well  how,  with  the  semi-savagery  of  early  boy- 
hood, we,  with  our  misguided  playmates,  lay  in  wait  for  some 
frisky  guinea-pigs,  playing  harmlessly  in  their  little  pen,  and, 
after  capturing  a  number,  transported  them  to  an  upper  veranda, 
and,  in  imitation  of  the  ancient  heathen's  treatment  of  captives, 
dashed  them  upon  the  stones  below  ;  and  how  retribution,  in  the 
form  of  a  very  indignant  father,  seized  upon  our  youthful  per- 
son, and,  with  the  dexterity  born  of  some  little  practice,  gave  us 
a  long- abiding  illustration  of  how  dreadful  a  thing  was  cruelty. 
There  also  we  obtained  our  first  practical  insight  into  a  hornet's 
disposition  and  activity. 

Salisbury,  doubtless,  was  a  lovely  spot,  but  its  memories  to  us 
are  not  cheering,  and  we  pass  on. 

In  1853  Mr.  Beecher  purchased  his  first  farm  in  the  East, 
a  plot  of  ninety-six  acres,  situated  in  the  town  of  Lenox,  up 
among  the  Berkshire  hills  of  Massachusetts.  This  was  known 
as  the  "  Blossom  Farm."  It  was  justly  celebrated  for  its  fine 
fruit,  especially  apples.  But  it  did  not  altogether  suit  Mr. 
Beecher,  nor  tempt  him  into  any  great  agricultural  outlay.  It 
was  too  far  from  the  city.  He  could  not  run  up  for  a  day,  and 
back  again.  He  could  not  be  there  in  spring  and  seed  time,  owing 
to  his  pastoral  duties.  Six  weeks'  vacation  time  in  midsummer, 
with  an  occasional  visit  of  two  or  three  days,  was  about  the  limit 
of  his  time  there.  He  had  to  run  the  farm  by  proxy,  which  was 
about  as  enjoyable,  to  him,  as  employing  some  one  to  eat  his 
meals. 

Having  a  chance,  in  1857,  to  sell  the  place,  he  did  so,  and 
then  hired  another  farm  at  Matteawan,  just  back  of  Fishkill 
Landing,  on  the  Hudson  River.  This  promised  to  be  a  more 
satisfactory  place  ;  but  a  little  over  two  hours  from  New  York, 
he  could  run  up  and  back  the  same  day,  and  spend  many  a  half- 


REV.  HENRY  lf.lA'/>  BEECHER 


day  at  work  in  his  garden,  from  which  he  was  debarred  by  dis- 
tance at  Lenox.  This,  doubtless,  would  have  been  his  country- 
place,  had  not  some  happy  chance  led  him  a  little  further  down 
the  river,  to  Peekskill-on-the-Hudson,  just  at  the  entrance  to 
the   Highlands.      There  he  found  his  ideal  summer   home,  on 

the  east  side  Of  the  river,  facing  the  sunset,  but  about  forty  miles 
from  New  York;  the  land  rising  by  a  succession  of  easy  hills, 
terrace-like;  six  hundred   feet  above  the   river   level,  until  one 


The  Cottage  at  Peekskill. 

reached  the  farm  a  little  over  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the 
depot.  Although  when  he  first  saw  it  the  place  was  rough, 
but  little  cultivated,  with  gnarled  and  half-dead  apple-trees  scat- 
tered here  and  there  over  it,  yet  the  possibilities  were  such  that 
on  the  first  inspection  he  decided  to  buy.  So  it  came  about 
that  in  the  fall  of  1859  he  gave  up  his  Matteawan  place  and 
bought  the  hillside  at  Peekskill,  which  he  named  "  Boscobel." 

At    the    foot    of   his    lawn    the    turnpike    runs  along  a  level 
stretch  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  ;  from  the  road  the  land  rises 


620 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


on  the  north  by  a  gradual,  easy  grade  in  graceful  lines  up  to  a 
comparatively  level  plateau,  on  which  the  cottage  and  the  old 
barns  were  located,  in  true  old-fashioned  style,  in  happy  disregard 
of  either  convenience  or  scenic  effect.  Taking  a  fresh  start,  the 
grade  rose  upward  again  for  three  or  four  hundred  yards,  forming 
a  third  level  space  on  top,  and  then  plunged  steeply  down  into  the 
valley  of  Peeks-kill.  From  the  turnpike  the  private  approach  ran 
up  between  a  double  row  of  stately  maples  to  the  very  doorstep. 
This  hill  was  one  of  the  spurs  that  ran  back  from  the  river  at 
right  angles  to  its  course — a  detached  foot-hill  of  the  Highlands. 

With  the  exception  of  a  few  acres  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  the 
farm  lay  along  the  south  slope,  sheltered  by  its  own  crest  from 
the  north  winds,  its  face  to  the  southern  sun.  In  this  Mr. 
Beecher  saw  peculiar  advantages  for  early  fruit  and  vegetables, 
while  the  view  in  every  direction  delighted  his  eye.  From  the 
house,  looking  west,  lay  the  river,  visible  only  for  a  mile  or  so, 
and  lying  like  a  beautiful  Swiss  lake  encircled  by  protecting 
mountains.  To  the  south  and  southeast  the  landscape  was 
varied  and  charming — low  hills,  woodland  and  green  fields,  mak- 
ing up  a  beautiful  picture.  "Whilst  from  the  hill- top,  reputed  to 
be  the  highest  point  in  Westchester  County,  the  country  lay  out 
like  one  great  panorama  on  all  sides,  the  view  to  the  north 
and  west  being  especially  grand  ;  another  glimpse  of  the  Hud- 
son being  visible  just  before  it  is  swallowed  up  by  the  grim 
mountains  of  the  Highlands.  Over  all  in  the  distance  rise,  blue 
and  faint,  the  Catskills,  whilst  to  the  east  the  country  rolls  in 
graceful,  broken  stretches  for  miles. 

Such  were  the  general  features  of  the  farm  when  Mr.  Beecher 
bought  it.         • 

The  house  was  a  low,  two-story,  wooden  farm-house  of  pre- 
Revolutionary  origin,  where,  as  the  legend  goes,  that  sturdy  old 
warrior,  Israel  Putnam,  had  his  headquarters  at  one  time — a 
legend  strongly  corroborated  by  the  silent  testimony  of  cannon- 
balls,  bayonets,  and  various  military  trappings  from  time  to  time 
unearthed  by  the  inquisitive  and  grubbing  plough.  In  the  spring 
of  i860  Mr.  Beecher  took  possession  of  his  new  farm  of  thirty- 
six  acres,  and  began  at  once  the  work  of  reformation  and  im- 
provement. 

At  first  the  low,  scrubby  bushes  that,  under  the  pretence  of 
bearing  edible  fruit,  had  long  been  allowed  to   outlive  their  use- 


REV.  HENRY  ll'.lh'P  BEECHER. 


62  1 


fulness,  were  grubbed  up  and  made  into  fagots  for  kindling. 
Then  one  by  one  the  trees  in  the  ancient  apple-on  hard,  wh'u  h 
Putnam's  patriots  had,  doubtless,  many  a  time  assaulted  and  ear- 
ned In  storm  well-nigh   a   hundred  years  before,  and  whw  h  in 

turn  took  a  sharp  ami  colicky  revenge  upon  their  assailants— unless 

the  quality  of  their  fruit  had  greatly  deteriorated  in  modern 
times — yielded  to  the  axe,  and  in  the  generous  open  fireplace,  the 
glory  of  the  old-fashioned  farm-house,  paid  their  last  tribute  to 
their  master,  man. 


f'^mm 


The  Old  Apple-Tree. 


The  last  to  fall  a  victim  to  axe  and  fire,  and  then  only  when 
extreme  old  age  and  decay  had  ended  its  apple-bearing  life,  and 
made  it  a  standing  menace  of  danger  to  all  who  passed  under 
its  rotted  branches,  was  one  entitled  to  special  notice.  Mr. 
Beecher  wrote  of  it  : 

"  I  have  a  tree  on  my  place  at  Peekskill  that  cannot  be  less 
than  two  hundred  years  old.  Two  ladies,  one  about  eighty  years 
old,  called  upon  us  several  years  ago,  saying  that  they  had  been 


62  2  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

brought  up  on  the  farm,  and  inquiring  if  the  old  apple-tree  yet 
lived.  They  said  that  in  their  childhood  it  was  called  '  the  old 
apple-tree]  and  was  then  a  patriarch.  It  must  now  be  a  Methu- 
selah, and  is  probably  the  largest  recorded  apple-tree  in  the 
world.  I  read  in  no  work  of  any  apple-tree  whose  circumference 
exceeds  twelve  or  thirteen  feet.  This  morning  I  measured  the 
Peekskill  apple-tree,  and  found  that,  at  four  feet  from  the  ground, 
where  the  limbs  begin  to  spring,  it  was  fourteen  feet  and  ten 
inches  in  circumference,  and  at  six  feet  from  the  ground  fourteen 
feet  and  six  inches.  I  am  sorry  to  add  that  the  long-suffering 
old  tree  gives  unmistakable  signs  of  yielding  to  the  infirmities  of 
old  age."  Where  the  enormous  limbs  branched  out,  so  great  was 
the  space,  a  summer-house  was  built,  in  which  the  children  play- 
ed keeping  house. 

Then  the  old  ramshackle  barns  were  taken  in  hand,  with 
their  successive  additions  hitched  on,  as  more  space  might  be 
required — architectural  after-thoughts,  regardless  of  everything 
except  capacity.  Some  were  torn  down,  others  removed  to  more 
convenient  and  less  obtrusive  localities — the  smaller  buildings 
doing  duty  for  carriages  and  chickens  ;  the  larger  ones,  with  a 
little  ingenuity  and  the  aid  of  a  carpenter  or  two,  being  consoli- 
dated into  one  commodious  building. 

Of  course  this  was  the  work  of  several  years,  and  required  no 
little  planning  and  arranging,  furnishing  that  restful  change  of 
occupation,  from  the  continuous  and  intense  mental  strain,  which 
Mr.  Beecher  so  much  needed. 

The  surface  cleared,  then  began  the  more  serious  work  of 
subsoiling,  draining,  and  clearing  up  of  stones.  Every  inch  of 
the  thirty-six  acres,  save  only  where  trees  and  buildings  stood, 
was  turned  over  to  the  subsoil.  The  deep  subsoil  plough,  with 
four  sturdy  oxen  to  give  it  force,  drove  its  steel  nose  twenty 
inches  down  into  the  earth,  taking  different  parts  of  the  farm  in 
successive  seasons,  each  then  being  seeded  down  to  grass,  grain, 
or  vegetables,  as  the  case  might  be.  The  loose  stones,  having  first 
been  carefully  gathered  from  the  upturned  surface,  were  then 
utilized  in  laying  gutters  by  the  roadside,  in  building  founda- 
tions for  barns,  sheds,  etc.,  or  in  making  drains — for  he 
found  that  the  live  springs  that  filled  the  hillside,  unless 
regulated,  might  make  his  lawn  too  damp.  So  deep  drains  were 
sunk  across  the  lower  half  of  the  hill  in  different  directions,  which 


.  V  WARD  BEECHER.  623 

carried  off  the  surplus  moisture  ;  while  under  house,  bam,  and 
cattle-sheds  wells  were  sunk  from  eight  to  ten  feet,  furnishin 
supply  of  cool,  sparkling  water,  never  failing  in  the  dryest  sum- 
mer. With  these  later  improvements  began  his  real  gardening 
and  farming;  every  form  of  flower,  fruit,  and  vegetable  that  the 
latitude  would  permit  was  planted  and  raised.  Tears,  apples, 
and  grapes,  among  the  fruit,  might  be  said  to  have  been  his 
specialty ;  between  two  and  three  thousand  trees  and  vines 
were  planted,  carefully  watched,  trimmed,  and  pruned  year  by 
year  until  they  came  into  full  bearing,  while  the  smaller  fruit, 
vines,  and  bushes  became  well-nigh  innumerable.  Though  he 
kept  the  place  always  well  stocked  with  what  might  be  called 
the  standard  crops,  he  was  very  fond  of  taking  up,  for  a  year 
or  two,  several  specialties,  devoting  his  principal  attention  and 
study  to  these  until  he  had  pretty  thoroughly  mastered  their 
habits,  peculiarities,  and  capacities,  then  for  the  next  year  or  two 
take  up  something  else,  and  so  on,  gradually  in  time  making  a 
special  study  of  every  flower,  fruit,  and  vegetable  that  could  be 
grown  in  that  latitude. 

When  strawberries  were  in  hand  he  tried  every  variety,  early 
and  late,  large  and  small,  sweet  and  tart,  and  in  such  numbers 
that  several  hundred  quarts  were  often  picked  in  one  day.  The 
same  was  true  of  pears,  apples,  plums,  peaches,  cherries,  grapes, 
raspberries,  blackberries,  as  well  as  peas,  corn,  potatoes,  cab- 
bages, etc. 

After  one  class  of  fruit  or  vegetable  had  had  its  turn,  it  was 
not  neglected,  but  one  or  two  of  the  varieties  found  best  adapted 
to  the  locality  were  retained  (except  in  the  large  fruit-trees,  of 
which  ^  large  assortment  was  always  kept),  and  only  sufficient 
planted  to  supply  the  family  with  about  four  times  as  much  as 
could  possibly  be  used  ;  for,  unless  there  was  enough  of  every- 
thing, so  that  each  person  in  the  family  at  the  time  might,  if  so 
inclined,  make  a  meal  of  any  one  thing,  he  would  not  touch  it. 
"  Skimpy  messes,"  as  he  used  to  call  them,  were  his  utter  abom- 
ination. But  the  thing  that  gave  him  the  greatest  pleasure  was 
to  beat  his  neighbors  in  early  crops.  Across  the  turnpike,  at  the 
foot  of  the  lane,  for  many  years  lived  a  very  dear  friend,  Mr. 
George  Dayton,  a  gentleman  of  means,  well  skilled  in  every  phase 
of  scientific  farming  ;  and  between  the  two  was  carried  on,  so 
long  as  Mr.   Dayton  lived,  a  most  earnest  rivalry  on  the  subject 


624  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

of  farming.  Nothing  delighted  Mr.  Beecher  more  than  to  gather 
a  basket  of  peas,  a  large  dish  of  strawberries,  or  a  dozen  ears  of 
corn,  the  first  of  the  season,  that  had  ripened  just  a  day  or  two 
ahead  of  Mr.  Dayton's,  and  bringing  them  down  to  his  friend's, 
deliver  them  to  him,  as,  with  an  air  of  mock  sympathy,  he  con- 
doled with  him  over  his  inability  to  raise  early  vegetables  or 
fruit  ;  then,  with  a  hearty  laugh,  invite  him  up  on  to  the  hillside 
to  learn  how  a  farm  s'hould  be  run.  The  natural  advantages  of 
his  location,  sheltered  from  the  north  and  open  to  the  first  warm 
breezes  from  the  south,  generally  gave  him  these  pleasant  triumphs 
by  two  or  three  days ;  though  once  in  a  while  the  tables  would  be 
turned,  and  he  had  to  take  his  turn  at  being  bantered  and  re- 
ceiving his  friend's  so-called  charity. 

We  confess  we  used  to  prefer  these  infrequent  reverses,  for 
our  youthful  eyes  watched  regretfully  the  dishful  of  great, 
luscious  strawberries  going  in  triumphal  procession  to  Mr.  Day- 
ton's. We  used  to  think  that  the  first  fruits,  like  charity,  should 
be  tried  at  home,  and  had  to  find  such  guilty  consolation  as  we 
could  in  a  surreptitious  visit  to  the  strawberry-bed.  This  was 
not  altogether  satisfactory,  for  aside  from  the  attendant  risks, 
the  remaining  berries  would  only  be  half-ripe. 

At  the  same  time  he  bought  the  place  it  was  his  good  fortune 
to  meet  an  English  gardener,  -Mr.  Thomas  J.  Turner,  and  to  se- 
cure his  services  as  superintendent,  or  "boss,"  as  he  was  known 
to  the  men — one  of  those  simple-minded,  faithful,  hard-working 
men,  who  never  spared  himself,  nor  his  subordinates.  His  de- 
voted attachment  to  the  family  and  the  place — "  Our  farm"  he 
used  to  call  it — made  him  an  invaluable  helper. 

For  flowers  and  ornamental  shrubs  Turner  had  at  first  but 
little  taste;  his  great  ambition  was  to  make  the  farm  "pay," 
and  the  contest  for  supremacy  between  master  and  man  caused 
much  amusement  to  all  parties. 

Turner  was  always  trying  to  extend  the  borders  of  his  pea 
and  potato  patches,  encroaching  on  the  hollyhocks  and  dahlias, 
while  Mr.  Beecher  would  crowd  the  corn  and  lima  beans  to  make 
more  room  for  roses  and  pinks. 

How  Mr.  Beecher  outwitted  his  opponent  we  will  let  him 
narrate  : 

"  I  am  as  set  and  determined  to  have  flowers  as  my  farmer, 
Mr.  Turner,  is  to  have  vegetables  ;  and  there  is  a  friendly  quarrel 


REV.   HENRY   WARL  HER. 


"-'5 


in  hand  all  the  season,  a  kind  of  border  warfare,  between  Sowers 
and  vegetables — \\ huh  shall  have  this  spot,  and  w h it  h  shall  secure 

that  nook  ;  whether  in  this  southern  slope  it  shall  he  onions  or 
gladioluses  ;  whether  a  row  of  lettuce  shall  edge  that  patch,  or  of 
asters.  I  think,  on  a  calm  review,  that  I  have  rather  gained  on 
Mr.  Turner.  The  tact  is,  I  found  that  he  had  me  at  a  disad- 
vantage, being  always  on  the  place  and  having  the  whole  spring 
to  himself.      St)   I  shrewdly   tampered  with   the  man   himself,  and 


Mr.   Beecher  on    His  Farm. 


before  he  knew  what  he  was  about,  I  had  infected  him  with  the 
flower  mania  (and  this  is  a  malady  that  I  have  never  known 
cured),  so  that  I  had  an  ally  in  the  very  enemy's  camp.  Indeed, 
I  begin  to  fear  that  my  manager  will  get  ahead  of  me  yet  in  skill 
and  love  of  flowers  !  " 

In  the  years  when  corn,  cabbage,  or  potatoes  were  being  spe- 
cialized Turner  was  happy.  With  a  proud  and  beaming  face  he 
would  drive  down  to  the  local  market,  load  after  load  of  choice 


626  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

vegetables.  His  cup  of  happiness  would  overflow  when  he  re- 
turned and  announced  that  "  our  vegetables  "  brought  the  best 
price  of  any  in  the  market. 

But,  alas  !  like  many  a  man  before  him,  his  pride  became, 
figuratively  speaking,  his  ruin  ;  for  after  a  while  the  fact  was  dis- 
covered that  .Turner  was  selecting  the  largest  and  fairest  for  the 
market,  and  that  the  home  table  had  to  be  content  with  second 
and  third  rates,  too  poor  to  sell  with  credit.  That  ended  all 
further  farming  for  profit.  From  that  time  on  nothing  further 
was  raised  for  the  market. 

As  full  of  interest  as  every  process  connected  with  farming 
and  fruit  culture  was,  Mr.  Beecher's  greatest  pleasure  was  in  the 
cultivation  of  flowers  and  ornamental  shrubs.  Their  ever-vary- 
ing form,  their  delicate  perfume,  and,  above  all,  their  abounding 
wealth  of  color,  furnished  him  a  bouquet  of  which  he  never  tired. 
Roses  were  perhaps  his  standard  favorites,  and,  whatever  other 
specialty  he  might  be  studying,  they  were  kept  up  always.  Of 
these  he  wrote  : 

"  All  rosedom  is  out  in  holiday  attire,  and  roses  white  and 
black,  green  and  pink,  scarlet,  crimson,  and  yellow,  striped  and 
mottled,  double  and  single,  in  clusters  and  solitary,  moss-roses, 
damask  roses,  Noisette,  Perpetual,  Bourbon,  China,  tea,  musk, 
and  all  other  tribes  and  names,  hang  in  exuberant  beauty.  The 
air  is  full  of  their  fragrance.  The  eye  can  turn  nowhere  that  it 
is  not  attracted  to  a  glowing  bush  of  roses.  What  would  not 
people  shut  up  in  cities  give  to  see  such  luxuriance  of  beautv  ! 
.  .  .  The  wonder  is  that  every  other  man  is  not  an  enthusiast, 
#and  in  the  month  of  June  a  gentle  fanatic.  Floral  insanity  is  one 
of  the  most  charming  inflictions  to  which  man  is  heir.  The  garden 
is  infectious.  Flowers  are  'catching,'  or  the  love  of  them  is. 
Men  begin  with  one  or  two.  In  a  few  years  they  are  struck 
through  with  floral  zeal.  And  one  finds,  after  the  heat,  and  strife, 
and  toil  of  his  ambitious  life,  that  there  is  more  pure  satisfaction 
in  his  garden  than  in  all  the  other  pursuits  that  promise  so  much 
of  pleasure  and  yield  so  little." 

In  different  years  he  tested  every  variety  of  form  and  color 
which  could  be  found  in  the  single  and  double  hollyhocks,  single 
and  double  dahlias,  phlox,  geraniums,  pansies,  lilies,  fuchsias,  and 
chrysanthemum,  sometimes  massed  in  great  banks  of  color, 
sometimes  scattered  in   different   beds   and   along  borders,  or  in 


RE  I '.  HENR  V  WARl  fER.  627 

little  beds  hidden  amid  the  shrubbery.  From  early  May  till  frost 
came,  "  Boscobel  *'  was  always  ablaze  with  the  glories  of  flowers 
in  their  different  seasons. 

It  is  given  to  few  to  understand, and  fewer  still  to  experience, 
the  wonderful  effect  which  flowers  had  upon  him.  Fagged  with 
hard  work,  vexed  with  cares,  with  nerves  strained  and  irritated, 
a  tew  hours  among  his  flowers  rested  his  brain,  soothed  his 
nerves,  and  refitted  him  for  days  of  hard  work.  Doubtless 
change  of  occupation,  open  air,  and  the  slight  physical  exertion 
required  in  tending  his  pets,  did  something  towards  rest  and  re- 
creation ;  but  there  was  a  subtle  power  in  many  colors  that 
worked  upon  his  nerves  in  a  strangely  mysterious  way,  that 
gave  him  more  relief  from  nerve  excitement  in  an  hour  than 
any  drug  ever  compounded.  Flowers  and  colored  gems — which 
he  called  unfading  flowers — possessed  this  soothing  power  above 
everything  else. 

In  his  younger  days  his  farming  and  gardening  experiences 
were  intimately  associated  with  hard  physical  work.  But  after  he 
had  settled  at  "  Boscobel"  the  number  and  pressure  of  his  regular 
engagements  made  farm  labor,  except  by  proxy,  impossible.  He 
worked  some,  it  is  true,  but  principally  for  exercise  ;  the  real 
use  and  benefit  of  the  farm  being  its  sweet  and  soothing  restful- 
ness. 

His  description  of  his  "  work  "  and  the  unalloyed  pleasure  he 
found  in  "  farming  "  needs  no  enlarging  : 

<;  The  light  is  just  coming.  I  do  not  care  for  that,  as  I  do  not 
propose  to  get  up  at  such  an  hour.  But  the  birds  do  care.  They 
evidently  wind  up  their  singing  apparatus  over-night,  for  when 
the  first  bird  breaks  the  silence,  in  an  instant  the  rest  go  off  as  if 
a  spring  had  been  touched  which  moved  them  all.  There  are 
robins  without  count,  wood-thrushes,  orioles,  sparrows,  bobolinks, 
meadow-larks,  bluebirds,  yellowbirds,  wrens,  warblers,  catbirds 
(as  the  Northern  mocking-bird  is  called),  martins,  twittering  swal- 
lows. Think  of  the  noise  made  by  mixing  all  these  bird-notes 
together  ;  add  a  rooster  and  a  solemn  old  crow  to  carry  the  base  ; 
then  consider  that  of  each  kind  there  are  scores,  and  of  some 
hundreds,  within  ear-reach,  and  you  will  have  some  faint  concep- 
tion of  the  opening  chant  of  the  day.  You  may  not  think  that  I 
wake  so  early,  but  I  do;  or,  having  awakened,  I  again  go  to  sleepv 
but  I  solemnly  do.     I  don't  think  of  getting  up  before  six. 


628  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"After  breakfast  there  are  so  many  things  to  be  done  first 
that  I  neglect  them  all.  The  morning  is  so  fine,  the  young  leaves 
are  so  beautiful,  the  bloom  on  the  orchard  is  so  gorgeous,  the 
sounds  and  sights  are  so  many  and  so  winning,  that  I  am  apt  to 
sit  down  on  the  veranda  for  just  a  moment,  and  for  just  another, 
and  for  a  series  of  them,  until  an  hour  goes  by.  Do  not  blame 
me  !     Do  not  laugh  at  such  farming  and  such  a  farmer. 

"  The  soil  overhead  bears  larger  and  better  crops,  for  a  sen- 
sible man,  than  does  the  soil  under-feet.  There  are  blossoms  in 
the  clouds.  There  is  fruit  upon  invisible  trees,  to  those  who 
know  how  to  pluck  it. 

"  But  then  sky-gazing  and  this  dallying  with  the  landscape 
will  not  do.  What  crowds  of  things  require  the  eye  and  hand  ! 
Flowers  must  be  transplanted.  Flower-seeds  must  be  sown  ; 
shrubs  and  trees  pruned  ;  vines  looked  after  ;  a  walk  taken  over 
the  hill  to  see  after  some  evergreens,  with  many  pauses  to  gaze 
upon  the  landscape,  and  many  birds  watched  as  they  are  confi- 
dentially exhibiting  their  domestic  traits  before  you.  The  kit- 
tens, too,  at  the  barn  must  be  visited,  the  calf,  and  the  new  cow. 
Then  every  gardener  knows  how  much  time  is  consumed  in 
watching  the  new  plants.  For  instance,  I  have  eight  new  kinds 
of  strawberries  that  need  looking  after,  each  one  purporting  to 
be  a  world's  wonder.  I  am  quite  anxious  about  eight  or  ten  new 
kinds  of  clematis,  two  new  species  of  honeysuckle,  eight  or  ten 
new  and  rare  evergreens,  and  ever  so  many  other  things,  shrubs 
and  flowers. 

"  But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  new  peas,  new  beans,  rare  cu- 
cumbers, early  melons,  extraordinary  potatoes  ?  Do  you  not  see 
that  it  is  impossible  for  me,  amid  such  incessant  and  weighty 
cares,  to  write?  The  air  is  white  with  apple-blossoms  ;  the  trees 
are  all  singing;  the  steaming  ground  beseeches  me  to  grant  it  a 
portion  of  flower-seeds  ;  by  night  the  whippoorwill,  and  by  day 
the  wood-thrush  and  mocking-bird,  fill  my  imagination  with  all 
sorts  of  fancies,  and  how  can  I  write  ?" 

After  a  number  of  years  Mr.  Beech er  began  to  think  that  he 
would  like  to  build  a  house  that  should  embody  his  ideal  of 
what  a  home  should  be — a  real  homestead  whose  hospitable 
largeness  could  readily  accommodate  all  the  children  and  the 
children's  children,  and  which  in  design,  in  finish  and  decoration, 
rhould  be  an  education  for  his  children.      Several  years  were 


A.'  /'.  HENRY  WARP  BEEC//ER, 

spent  in  talking  over  plans  and  examining  designs  proposed  by 
an  nitects  before  the  final  plan  was  adopted.  Then  the  Tilton 
conspiracy  broke  out,  and  for  a  short  time  deferred  the  proposed 
building.  Hut  the  need  of  some  diverting  occupation,  something 
that  should  change  the  entire  current  of  his  thoughts,  became 

SO  derided  that  in  self-defence  he  began  building  the  new  house. 
On  that   peaceful   hillside,  amid    the   busy  workmen,  he  found  a 

grateful  asylum  and  refuge  from  the  tempest  with  which  his 
enemies  had  sought  to  destroy  him. 

It  has  never  been  doubted  in  his  family,  that  the  relief  which 
he  found  in  the  pure  air,  the  beautiful  scenery,  the  sweet  com- 
munion with  flowers  and  birds,  at  Peekskill,  with  his  engrossing 
Interest  in  "  the  house,"  saved  his  life  during  those  years  when 
the  burden  was  the  heaviest. 

He  has  often  said  that  he  never  spent  money  more  profitably 
than  in  building  his  new  house  and  in  laying  out  his  grounds. 

Stone  by  stone  and  brick  by  brick  he  watched  the  foundations 
and  the  lower  stories  rise.  Each  floor-beam,  joist,  and  girder 
received  his  zealous  scrutiny.  The  reasons  for  this,  and  the 
causes  for  that,  he  must  know  all  about  ;  until,  long  before  the 
house  was  finished,  he  was,  barring  the  manual  dexterity,  as  good 
a  mason  or  carpenter  as  the  best  of  those  at  work.  Every  day, 
and  often  a  dozen  times  a  day,  he  climbed  from  cellar  to  ridge- 
pole, studying,  investigating,  making  suggestions,  or  proposing 
alterations — these  latter  the  terror  of  his  architect  ;  for,  though 
often  decided  improvements  on  the  first  plans,  they  sometimes 
involved  a  serious  modification  of  the  work  in  hand.  Every  gen- 
tleman who  visited  him  must  make  the  tour  clear  to  the  ridge- 
pole, for  there  the  view  was  finest.  Once,  when  a  young  man  was 
his  visitor  and  victim,  he  insisted  that  they  should  mount  the 
lofty  but  unfinished  chimney  to  get  a  little  more  extended  out- 
look, setting  the  example  himself  ;  but  his  companion,  who  was 
hugging  a  firmly-secured  cross-tie,  in  momentary  fear  of  losing 
his  balance  and  falling,  declared  that  he  drew  the  line  at  the 
chimney,  and  would  aspire  no  higher. 

When  finally  the  house  was  up  came  the  internal  finishing 
and  decoration.  Nothing  was  omitted  that,  in  his  opinion,  would 
increase  comfort  or  convenience  ;  while,  in  the  decorative  and 
ornamental  finish,  he  aimed  at  results  which  should  educate  the 
eye  and  tastes  of  his  children. 


63O  R£V.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

"  Boscobel  "  was  to  be  the  family  home,  and  ultimately  his 
permanent  residence,  for  then  he  used  to  say  that  when  he 
reached  seventy,  he  proposed  to  retire  from  the  public  and  de- 
vote his  closing  years  to  literary  work. 

Here  children  and  grandchildren  were  together  each  sum- 
mer, pilgrims  to  this  domestic  Mecca.  The  house  must  be 
large  enough  to  hold  them  all,  and  friends  besides,  without 
crowding  ;  and  it  was,  twenty  and  twenty-five  being  no  unusual 
number  gathered  within  its  walls.  And  on  one  occasion, 
when  a  clerical  union  was  invited  to  meet  at  "  Boscobel,"  thirty 
were,  with  a  little  ingenious  packing,  entertained  over-night. 

It  was  not  until  the  summer  of  1878  that  the  workmen  were 
finally  dispossessed  and  the  family  entered  into  the  new  house. 
What  a  sense  of  expansion  we  all  experienced  !  We  looked  back 
upon  the  humble  little  cottage,  hallowed  by  so  many  years  full  of 
enjoyment,  and  wondered  how  it  could  ever  have  held  us  all — 
something  as  a  butterfly,  with  broad,  expanded  wings,  might  con- 
template its  empty  chrysalis,  surprised  that  it  had  lived  so  long, 
cramped  within   so  small  a  compass. 

The  richness  of  the  wall-paper  and  the  delicacy  of  the  fresco- 
ing would  not  permit  the  hanging  of  pictures,  while  Mr.  Beech- 
er's  love  of  the  beautiful  would  not  permit  him  to  rest  quiet 
until  he  had  found  some  way  of  further  decoration  appropriate 
to  his  walls.  This  led  him  to  the  study  of  the  various  ornamen- 
tal ceramics.  China,  Japan,  England  and  France,  Germany  and 
America,  were  each  laid  under  contribution  for  its  characteristic 
productions.  Fortunately  he  had  made  his  mantel-pieces  broad 
and  high,  with  many  little  shelves  and  brackets,  convenient  rest- 
ing-places for  vases,  cups,  and  bowls.  Once  the  house  was  com- 
plete came  the  final  work  of  improvement — the  landscape,  grad- 
ing, planting  ornamental  shrubs,  and  laying  out  of  his  lawn,  whose 
ten  acres  spread  out  before  the  new  house.  The  trimming  of 
trees  and  shrubs  into  fantastic  or  mathematical  figures,  and  strict 
regularity  of  path  and  plot,  he  detested.  Landscape-gardening 
should  be  only  an  assistant  to  nature,  not  a  remodeller. 

On  this  theory  he  laid  out  his  place.  In  the  changing  of 
grades,  grouping  of  shrubs,  planting  of  tangled  copses,  he  sought 
to  give  to  everything  the  appearance  of  natural  growth  and  for- 
mation. 

Having  taken  up  ornamental  trees  and  plants,  with  his  usual 


632  REV.  HENRY   WARD  BEECH ER. 

thoroughness  he  exhausted  the  subject.  Every  tree  and  shrub 
that  with  reasonable  care  could  be  made  to  grow  on  that  favored 
place  was  planted.  And  so  skilfully  and  naturally  have  they 
been  grouped  that,  though  there  are  over  sixteen  hundred  of  the 
ornamental  varieties  growing  within  the  limits  of  those  thirty-six 
acres,  they  are  not  crowded,  and  nearly  twenty  acres  are  free  for 
gras-.  vegetables,  and  fruit. 

It  was  stated  by  an  experienced  landscape-gardener,  in  18S4, 
that,  with  the  exception  of  the  Smithsonian  Institute  in  Wash- 
ington, no  collection  similar  in  extent  and  variety  could  then  be 
found  in  America. 

Of  course  this  building,  improving,  and  planting  called  for  a 
constant  and  heavy  outlay  of  money.  It  was  in  part  to  meet  this 
that  he  projected  and  carried  out  the  series  of  lecture-tours  that 
ran  through  the  last  ten  years  of  his  life. 

In  the  commercial  sense  of  the  word  his  farming  was  not 
profitable.  He  spent  upon  his  place  many  thousands  of  dollars 
that  never  came  back  to  him  in  coin  or  currency.  His  receipts 
were  of  the  kind  not  to  be  found  in  the  open  market,  not  affect- 
ed by  the  flurries  in  "  The  Street  "  ;  neither  defaulting  cashier  nor 
stock-jobbing  speculator  could  depreciate  or  lessen  them. 

If  money  be  valued  at  the  amount  of  comfort  and  happiness  it 
affords,  then  the  thousands  lavished  on  his  beloved  home  were 
well  spent,  for  seldom  has  the  same  amount  given  so  much  of 
real,  healthful  happiness,  and  to  so  many. 

Xone  outside  of  the  family  will  ever  know  to  how  many 
"  Boscobel  "  was  a  veritable  tower  of  refuge  in  dark  days  and 
troublous  times  ;  how  many  found  inspiration  there  for  greater 
work,  and  increased  courage  for  burden-bearing  ;  whilst  to  Mr. 
Beecher  it  was  an  investment  that  repaid  him,  in  dividends  ot 
life-lengthening  rest,  reinvigoration,  and  happiness,  many  hun- 
dred per  cent.  Xo  wonder  that  he  loved  every  spear  of  grass. 
every  budding  leaf  and  perfumed  .flower,  upon  that  hillside. 
They  were  his  children,  at  least  by  adoption.  Xo  wonder  that 
the  birds,  and  even  the  very  insects,  his  uninvited  summer  guest-, 
were  dear  to  him  ;  and  that  each  fall,  as  he  turned  his  back  upon 
the  summer  and  the  hillside,  to  enter  again  into  the  harassing 
turmoils  of  city  life,  his  thoughts  ran  back  in  gratitude  to  the 
many  friends  that  had  contributed  so  much  to  his  happine—  : 

"  Neither    can  a   sensitive    nature    forget    his    summer    com- 


633 


634  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

panions,  or  stint  them  in  their  meed  of  praise  and  gratitude. 
Worms  whose  metamorphosis  we  have  watched  ;  spiders  whose 
webs  glitter  along  the  grass  at  morning  and  at  evening,  or  mark 
out  geometric  figures  among  the  trees — spiders  red,  brown, 
black,  green,  gray,  yellow,  and  speckled  ;  soft-winged  moths  ; 
gorgeous  butterflies,  steel-colored  and  shining  black  crickets, 
locusts  and  grasshoppers,  and  all  the  rabble  of  creaking,  sing- 
ing, fiddling  fellows  besides,  which  swarm  in  air  and  earth — we 
bid  you  all  a  hearty  good- by.  Sooth  to  say,  we  part  from  some 
of  you  without  regret.  But  for  the  million  we  feel  a  true  yearn- 
ing, so  much  have  we  watched  your  ways,  so  many  hours  has 
our  soul  been  fed  by  you  through  our  eyes.  Ye  are  a  part  of 
the  great  Father's  family. 

''Oh  !  how  goodly  a  book  is  that  which  God  has  opened  in 
this  world  !  Every  day  is  a  separate  leaf — nay,  not  leaf,  but 
volume,  with  text,  and  note,  and  picture,  with  every  dainty  quip 
and  quirk  of  graceful  art,  with  stores  of  knowledge  illimitable, 
if  one  will  only  humble  himself  to  receive  it  !  One  should  not 
willingly  be  ungrateful,  even  to  the  smallest  creatures  or  to  in- 
animate objects  that  have  served  his  pleasure. 

"  And  so,  to  reed  and  grass,  bush  and  tree,  stone  and  hill, 
brook  and  lake,  all  creeping  things  and  all  things  that  fly,  to 
early  birds  and  late-chirping  locusts,  we  wave  our  hand  in  grate- 
ful thanks  ! 

"  But  to  that  Providence  over  all,  source  of  their  joy  and 
mine,  what  words  can  express  what  every  manly  heart  must  feel  ? 

"  Only  the  life  itself  can  give  thanks  for  life." 

While  house,  flowers,  and  plants  occupied  the  greater  part  of 
his  farming  time,  they  by  no  means  monopolized  it.  He  took  a 
very  deep  interest  in  his  chickens.  White  Leghorns,  Buff  Co- 
chins, and  Brown  Brahmas,  out  of  the  many  kinds  that  he  tried, 
were  the  final  favorites,  and  repaid  him  well  in  eggs — the  univer- 
sal hen  currency — for  his  pains  and  care.     Of  these  he  wrote  : 

"  It  is  a  day  for  the  country ;  the  city  palls  on  the  jaded  nerve. 
I  long  to  hear  the  hens  cackle.  There  are  lively  times  now  in 
barn  and  barn-yard,  I'll  warrant  you.  .  .  .  The  Leghorn,  of  true 
blood,  leads  the  race  of  fowls  for  continuous  eggs,  in  season  and 
out  of  season — eggs  large  enough,  of  fine  quality,  and  sprung  from 
hens  that  never  think  of  chickens.  For  a  true  Leghorn  seldom 
wants  to  sit.     They  believe  in  division  of  labor.     If  they  provide 


kj:V.  //j:\k\    ir.iAw)  BEECHER.  635 

the  eggs,  others  must  hatch  them.  .  .  .  The  Brahmas  and  Co- 
chins have  good  qualities.  They  arc  Large,  even  huge.  The) 
peaceable.  Ami  the  Cochins  do  not  stratch — an  important  fact  to 
all  who  have  gardens.  .  .  .  But  a  more  ungainly  thing  than  Buff 
Cochins  the  eye  never  saw.  A  flock  of  Leghorns  is  a  delight  to 
the  eve  ;  their  forms  are  symmetrical,  and  every  motion  graceful. 
But  the  fat,  podgy  Cochins  waddle  before  you  like  over-fat 
buffoons.  They  are  grotesque,  good-natured,  clumsy,  useful 
creatures,  with  a  great  love  of  sitting.  We  keep  Cochin  hens  to 
sit  on  Leghorn  eggs." 

So  long  as  he  raised  chickens  in  the  good  old-fashioned,  or- 
thodox way  he  was  very  successful  ;  but  when,  one  unlucky  day, 
he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  agent  of  some  patent  chicken-breed- 
ing process,  his  sorrows  began. 

The  hatcher  and  brooder  appeared  in  due  time,  with  trays, 
tin  pans,  heater,  self-regulating  thermometer,  and  enough  other 
paraphernalia  to  hatch  out  an  ostrich.  Three  hundred  selected 
eggs  were  taken  for  the  first  experiment,  carefully  stowed  in  the 
trays,  the  heat  turned  on,  the  regulating  thermometer  put  in  gear  ; 
then  we  all  stood  back  and  gazed  in  wondering  admiration  upon 
the  machine  which  was  to  grind  out  chickens  like  a  mill.  Our 
impatience  could  hardly  be  restrained  to  await  the  eventful  day 
when  the  shells  should  crack,  and  the  downy  occupants  come 
tumbling  out  of  the  trays  ;  while  visions  of  tender  broiled 
chickens,  chickens  roasted,  stewed,  and  fricasseed  without  limit, 
danced  through  our  exultant  minds.  Three  hundred  spring 
chickens  !  Phew  !  And  the  process  could  be  repeated  indefi- 
nitely. 

At  last  the  long-expected  day  arrived  when,  according  to  the 
regulations,  all  well-behaved  eggs  should  hatch. 

Mons  laboravit  et — no,  not  a  mouse,  but  one  solitary  little 
chicken  came  forth.  Two  hundred  and  ninety-nine  good  eggs 
had  gone  wrong  ! 

The  second  trial  resulted  better  :  one  in  every  ten  responded 
at  the  roll-call.  But  even  these  found  this  cold  world  uncon- 
genial, and,  what  with  the  pips,  gapes,  and  other  maladies  inci- 
dent to  chicken  babyhood,  their  little  band  rapidly  diminished 
to  zero.  But  these  discouragements  only  stimulated  Mr.  Beecher 
to  greater  effort,  determined  that,  if  the  machine  could  be  made 
to  work,  he  would  make  it.     It  would  be  hard  to  say  what  the 


636  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

upshot  might  have  been,  had  not  the  machine,  one  fine  night, 
started  off  on  an  original  plan  of  its  own,  with  a  view  to  forcing 
the  eggs,  which  resulted  in  burning  the  hatcher,  chicken-house, 
part  of  a  barn,  and  nearly  cleaning  out  the  entire  general  estab- 
lishment. After  that  the  hens  had  a  monopoly  of  the  hatching 
business. 

With  his  cattle  he  was  uniformly  successful,  no  one  having 
invented  any  calf-hatching  machine.  For  many  years  he  raised 
nothing  but  Ayrshires — very  handsome  cowsand  very  generous 
milkers — but  finally  he  began  to  try  the  Jerseys,  and  never  after 
changed  from  them.  Their  beautiful  deer-like  heads,  small,  grace- 
ful limbs,  and  kindly  dispositions  made  them  universal  favorites  ; 
while  their  milk,  scant  in  quantity  but  wonderfully  rich  in 
cream,  made  berry-time  a  marked  season  of  the  year.  As  he 
never  cared  to  keep  more  than  six  or  eight  cows,  he  had  each 
year  to  sell  several  heifers  ;  these,  thanks  to  the  kindness  of  Mr. 
Kittredge,  his  next-door  neighbor,  having  been  registered  in  the 
Jersey  stock-book,  sold  for  large  prices. 

No  farm  so  well  stocked  with  flowers  should  be  without  its 
bees  ;  so  about  eight  years  ago  he  purchased  four  hives  of 
Italian  bees,  had  a  proper  shed  erected,  and  the  bees  duly  in- 
stalled. 

After  a  few  preliminary  experiments  he  delegated  the  care 
and  culture  of  bees  to  our  hands.  The  necessity  of  appearing 
in  his  pulpit  at  regular  stated  times,  with  a  face  reasonably  free 
from  distortion,  compelled  him  to  forego  the  pleasure  and  exer- 
cise of  caring  for  and  dodging  bees.  But  if  he  found  it  prudent 
to  turn  the  bees  over  to  others,  he  none  the  less  enjoyed  watch- 
ing his  proxy,  making  humorous  suggestions — from  a  convenient 
distance.  Though  he  did  not  himself  handle  them,  he  kept 
himself  fully  posted  respecting  their  habits.  All  that  the  text- 
books could  teach  he  learned,  and  then  would  question  us  as  to 
our  actual  experience.  Whenever  a  hive  swarmed  he  was  on 
hand,  if  at  the  farm,  and  none  were  more  interested  in  capturing 
the  swarm  than  he. 

As  we  have  intimated,  his  bees  sometimes  showed  a  want  of 
respect  for  "the  cloth,"  and  an  inappreciation  of  his  friendly  in- 
terest. At  these  times  he  joined  as  heartily  as  the  less  interested 
spectators  in  the  laugh  raised  at  his  expense  ;  for  there  seems  to 


rev.  ///..vat  Ward  beecher.  637 

be  something  irresistibly  comical  in  the  sight  of  a  full-grown  man 
waging  a  hopeless  war  with  a  mere  mite  of  a  bee.  His  relish  tor 
the  humorous  could  not  be  Stayed  even  by  the  smart  of  a  bee's 
sting,  while  a  little  patience  was  sure  to  afford  him  a  chance  to 
return  the  laugh  with  interest. 

On  one  occasion  an  enormous  swarm  had  settled  on  the  lower 
limbs  of  a  cherry-tree,  just  over  the  place  where  an  unconscious 
calf  was  tethered  and  peacefully  browsed.  By  some  strange- 
freak  the  swarm  dropped  from  the  limb  upon  the  unsuspecting 
(alt.  Fortunately,  while  swarming,  bees  are  not  apt  to  be  ag- 
gressive. The  calf,  terrified  at  this  crawling  mass  so  suddenly 
enveloping  it,  began  to  bleat  and  rush  frantically  around  as  far 
as  its  chain  would  permit.  The  bees,  at  last  annoyed  at  the  shak- 
ing up  they  received,  began  to  remonstrate  in  a  very  pointed 
manner.  Matters  were  momentarily  growing  more  and  more  seri- 
ous for  the  calf,  when  one  of  the  farm-hands,  happening  by,  rushed 
in,  with  more  zeal  than  discretion,  trying  to  free  the  calf  ;  before 
he  could  unfasten  the  chain  the  calf  succeeded  in  entangling 
him,  finally  tripping  him  up  and  falling  with  him  to  the  ground,  a 
confused  mass  of  calf,  bees,  and  Irishman.  Fortunately  another 
man  ran  in,  and,  pulling  up  the  spike  to  which  the  chain  was  fas- 
tened, released  them  all.  Happily  no  one  was  seriously  hurt,  but 
the  final  rescuer,  with  face  and  hands  still  smarting,  meeting  Mr. 
Beecher,  burst  out,  in  somewhat  incoherent  excitement  :  "  Those 
domded  bees  have  murthered  the  calf,  an'  Kelly's  kilt  and  gone 
to  h the  other  way." 

Mr.  Beecher  was  never  able  to  get  any  satisfactory  explana- 
tion as  to  what  the  "  other  way  "  was. 

Between  the  Jerseys  and  the  bees,  Boscobel  soon  became  a 
land  veritably  flowing  with  milk  and  honey. 

No  account  of  the  Peekskill  home  would  be  complete  without 
some  mention  of  the  dogs.  Like  all  true  lovers  of  nature,  Mr. 
Beecher  was  very  fond  of  dogs,  and  generally  had  a  fairly  large 
family  on  hand. 

From  Bruno  and  Jack,  two  canine  giants — one  a  St.  Bernard 
and  the  other  half  Russian  bloodhound  and  half  mastiff — to  the 
little,  wiggling  mite  of  a  diminutive  black-and-tan,  all  bark  and 
wiggle,  through  all  the  intervening  grades  of  size  and  kind — mas- 
tiff, colly,  Esquimaux,  and    terrier — one  thing  only  was  insisted 


638  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

upon  invariably :  the  dog  must  be  kind  and  gentle  to  children. 
He  might  be  ever  so  homely,  ever  so  useless,  and  he  would  be 
petted  and  loved  ;  but  if  he  once  snapped  at  the  little  ones  who 
tumbled  over  him,  pulling  tail  and  ears,  the  fiat  went  forth,  as 
irrevocable  as  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians — banishment 
or  death.  He  loved  to  watch  them  frolicking  among  themselves 
or  with  the  children,  chasing  and  being  chased.  With  them  he 
would  take  long  walks,  and  often  sit  upon  the  bank  and  talk  to 
the  companion  who,  with  ears  pricked  up  and  wagging  tail, 
seemed  almost  to  understand  him.     Of  one  he  once  wrote  : 

"  I  have  a  four-legged  heathen  on  my  place — '  Tommy.'  He 
is  a  most  intelligent  and  a  most  discriminating  little  dog  ;  he  is  a 
gentleman  in  disguise,  and  I  am  really  sorry  for  him  that  he 
cannot  talk.  If  ever  there  was  a  dog  that  was  distressed  to  think 
that  he  could  not  talk,  that  dog  is.  I  sit  by  him  on  the  bank,  of 
a  summer  evening,  and  I  say,  '  Tommy,  I  am  sorry  for  you  '  ; 
and  he  whines,  as  much  as  to  say,  '  So  am  I.'  I  say,  'Tommy,  I 
should  like  to  tell  you  a  great  many  things  that  you  are  worthy 
of  knowing '  ;  and  I  do  not  know  which  is  the  most  puzzled,  he 
or  I — I  to  get  any  idea  into  his  head,  or  he  to  get  any  out  of 
mine  ;  but  there  it  is  :  I  know  what  he  thinks,  and  he  knows  not 
what  I  think.  He  knows  that  there  is  something  above  a  dog, 
and  he  manifests  his  canine  uneasiness  by  whining,  and  in  other 
ways.  His  aspiration  shows  itself  from  his  ears  to  his  tail.  He 
longs  to  be  something  more  and  better  ;  he  yearns  to  occupy  a 
larger  sphere  ;  but,  after  all,  he  does  not,  and  he  cannot." 

To  the  children  "  Boscobel  "  was  a  beautiful  home,  filled  with 
everything  that  could  educate  the  eye  and  taste,  and  cultivate 
the  love  of  the  beautiful  in  nature  ;  made  doubly  dear  by  the 
daily  association  with  our  father  in  his  happiest  and  brightest 
moods. 

To  the  friends  for  whom  its  doors  were  ever  open  it  was  a 
delightful,  to  its  owner  a  veritable  haven  of  rest. 

From  its  commanding  height  he  looked  out  upon  the  country 
lying  below  and  beyond,  with  the  eye  of  ownership  ;  for  he  used 
to  say  :  "  I  own  all  I  can  see.  I  enjoy  all  that  there  is  of  beauty 
and  peacef  ulness  in  my  neighbor's  lands  as  much  as  they,  without 
the  responsibility  or  the  taxes."  This,  he  declared,  was  the  most 
profitable  kind  of  land-owning. 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

Home  Life— Love  of  Children— II is  Method  of  Training  and  Education- 
Formation  of  Library  and  Art  Collection— Personal  Traits. 

TO  the  public  Mr.  Beecher  was  best  known  as  the  eloquent 
preacher  and  speaker,  the  fearless  advocate  of  right  and 
foe  to  wrong,  the  champion  of  the  weak  and  oppressed,  a 
friend  to  all  mankind.  But  it  was  only  to  those  who  knew  him 
in  his  home-life  that  the  softer  and  sweeter  sides  of  his  nature 
were  fully  revealed.  For  his  home  and  family  he  had  the  deepest 
and  most  tender  affection.  Though  brought  up  in  New  England, 
where  respectful  reverence  from  child  to  parent  was  often  carried 
to  such  an  extreme  that  the  father  was  almost  unapproachable 
to  his  children,  he  retained  none  of  the  puritanical  austerity 
that  largely  filled  the  social  atmosphere  of  Connecticut  seventy 
years  ago,  partly  because  in  his  own  home  there  was  more  of  the 
feeling  of  fellowship  between  the  father  and  children,  but  more 
especially  because  his  intense  love  for  children  swept  away  all 
barriers  of  cold  formality.  To  his  own  he  was  the  companion 
and  playfellow,  the  partner  in  every  joy,  the  comforter  in  every 
sorrow.  Patient  in  unravelling  those  mysteries  of  mind  and  mat- 
ter that  perplex  the  early  life  of  every  healthful  child,  he  never 
answered  their  childish  wonderings  with  the  impatient  "  don't 
bother  me,"  which  too  often  checks  that  curiosity  which  is  nature's 
mode  of  self-education,  and  which  often  makes  childhood  one 
long,  continuous  "why." 

Every  little  prattler  was  his  by  love's  adoption.  In  more  than 
a  score  of  households  he  was  the  "  Grandpa" par  excellence,  often 
sadly  interfering,  we  fear,  with  the  rules  of  government  ;  for,  by 
tacit  consent  between  parents,  children,  and  "  Grandpa,"  he  was 
superior  to  all  nursery  regulations.  His  consent,  and  often  co- 
operation, was  a  warrant  of  pardon  for  any  and  all  pranks  and 
escapades  committed  thereunder. 

He  was  always  very  careful  to  exercise  this  power  along  the 

line  of  healthy  sport,  in  little  pranks  that  gave  amusement  to  all, 

639 


64O  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

but  at  the  same  time  leading  the  boys  to  be  more  manly  and  the 
girls  to  be  more  womanly.  Many  a  young  man  and  woman  to- 
day looks  back  upon  those  bright  days  of  their  childhood  with 
deep  and  tender  affection,  and  sees  where,  in  what  seemed  then 
mere  sport  and  fun,  they  had  caught  the  inspiration  for  higher 
and  nobler  living. 

In  this  childhood's  Utopia  things  were  sometimes  strangely 
transposed.  Nothing  would  at  first  more  surprise  a  stranger,  in 
whose  memory  still  lingered  pungent  recollections  of  early  dis- 
cipline, than  to  see  a  troop  of  children  pounce  down  upon  Mr. 
Beecher,  clamoring  with  shouts  and  laughter  for  a  whipping. 
He  remembered  that  shouts  and  clamor  were  constant  concomi- 
tants in  the  execution  of  domestic  penalties  in  his  early  days,  but 
nothing  in  his  experience  recalled  laughter  in  that  connection. 

The  mystery  would  soon  be  explained,  when,  with  mock 
frowns  and  assumed  violence,  the  children  were  seized,  twirled 
and  tumbled  into  a  row  along  the  wall,  and  ordered  to  hold  out 
each  right  hand  ;  one  after  another  each  hand  was  seized  and 
several  blows  administered — with  a  stick  of  candy.  Of  course  the 
sticks  did  not  get  away.  The  rods  were  not  spared,  and  we 
don't  think  that  any  of  the  children  were  spoiled. 

And  the  stranger,  as  with  quiet  smile  he  looks  upon  them, 
wonders,  after  all,  if  parents  resorted  to  that  kind  of  whipping 
more,  whether  the  increased  feeling  of  good-fellowship  would  not 
render  the  need  of  the  other  kind  less  frequent. 

In  the  training  of  his  own  children  he  seldom  resorted  to  ac- 
tual physical  punishment,  and  then  only  when  the  little  culprit 
had  been  guilty  of  some  especially  aggravated  offence.  But  when 
he  did  resort  to  the  laying  on  of  hands,  he  entered  into  it  with 
great  earnestness.  Dishonesty,  falsehood,  cruelty,  and  meanness 
of  every  kind  were  capital  offences.  The  sinner  did  not  lose  his 
head  in  such  cases,  but  some  other  parts  of  his  person  were  so 
actively  stimulated,  that  standing  became  the  most  comfortable 
position  for  a  long  time  thereafter.  These  little  rencounters  nat- 
urally produced  profound  impressions.  We  were  not  apt  to  in- 
vite another  by  repeating  that  particular  offence. 

We  well  remember  some  experiments  in  natural  philosophy, 
conducted  by  us  when  about  six  or  seven  years  old,  in  which  a 
kitten  and  a  tub  of  water  figured  prominently,  some  features  of 
which,  bordering  on  the  barbarous,  we  will  omit.     Just  then  our 


RE  I '.   HI  XR  )  ■   WA  RD  HE  EC  HER.  64  I 

father  came  along,  and — well,  things  were  generally  reversed,  in- 
cluding the  youthful  experimenter.  The  kitten  was  fished  out, 
ami  we  had  it  so  thoroughly  impressed  upon  our  understanding 
that  kittens  won't  swim  under  water,  thai  we  do  not  remember  to 
have  experimented  any  further  in  thai  direction. 

After  these  profoundly  impressionable  interviews  he  would 
talk  earnestly  and  lovingly  to  the  culprit,  de<  laringthal  it  hurt  him 
more  to  punish  than  it  did  the  sinner  to  be  punished— which  we 
can  well  believe  now,  from  our  knowledge  of  his  deep  and  tender 
loving-kindness,  and  from  the  similar  duties  time  has  brought 
to  us.  Then  it  used  to  seem  strongly  paradoxical,  measuring  his 
pain  by  our  still  smarting  skin  we  generously  thought  that 
we  would  willingly  have  foregone  any  benefits  derived  from  the 
experience,  and  have  spared  him  so  much  suffering. 

Happily,  these  graver  cases  were  infrequent.  The  minor  mis- 
demeanors from  childhood's  restless  carelessness  were  generally 
met  with  quiet,  gentle  talks,  the  mischief  fully  explained  with  all 
its  whys  and  wherefores;  the  little  penitent  being  finally  dismissed 
with  a  kiss,  honestly  and  heartily  determined  to  keep  out  of 
mischief,  and  succeeding,  by  great  effort,  for  an  hour  or  two,  until 
he  tumbled  into  something  else.  With  such  cases  the  father's 
patience  was  infinite. 

As  the  children  grew  older  he  was  untiring  in  his  care  that 
they  should  form  those  habits  of  body,  mind,  and  morals  that 
should  make  them  strong,  useful,  and  moral  men  and  women. 
He  stimulated  their  natural  curiosity,  but  at  the  same  time  taught 
them  to  be  self-helpful.  If  a  question  were  asked  that  could  be 
answered  by  any  book  that  he  had,  the  questioner  was  sent  for  it, 
and  told,  "  Now  read  that  carefully,  and  tell  me  what  you  learn; 
I  want  to  know  it,  too  ;  "  adding  :  "  Information  which  you  get 
when  your  attention  is  fully  aroused,  and  for  which  you  have  to 
stop  and  take  some  little  trouble,  you  will  be  pretty  sure  to  re- 
member." 

"  Never  ask  a  question,"  he  used  to  say,  "if  you  can  find  the 
answer  yourself,  but  never  hesitate  to  ask  if  you  can't  find  it  :  re- 
member always  you  have  a  tongue  in  your  head." 

His  letters  to  the  absentees  at  school  and  college  were  full  of 
well-considered  advice,  and  well  illustrate  what  we  have  referred 
to  : 

"  I  am  more  glad  than   I  can  express  that  you  feel   so  much 


642  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

interest  in  religious  meetings,  and  I  hope  that  God  will  lead  you 
to  embrace  with  your  whole  soul  a  religious  life.  It  is  the  only 
way  to  perfect  honor  and  to  the  highest  truth  and  duty.  Religion 
is  only  the  highest  use  and  regulation  of  every  faculty.  To  love 
God  and  live  in  true  benevolence  toward  men  is  the  very  way  to 
make  yourself  wise,  happy,  and  good.  ...  In  all  your  own  per- 
sonal conduct  act  upon  conscience,  and  do  not  try  to  please  your- 
self merely,  but  to  do  what  is  right,  and  because  it  is  right.  Towards 
your  companions,  in  all  things,  seek  to  be  unselfish,  kind  in  little 
things,  studying  their  good  and  not  your  own.  .  .  .  One  word  as 
to  reading  your  Bible.  You  must  not  regard  the  book  with  super- 
stition, and  imagine  that  you  will  get  good  by  merely  reading  it. 
You  must  remember  that  it  is  a  very  large  and  widespread  book; 
many  things  will  not  be  of  service  to  you  yet.  It  has  something 
in  it  for  every  age  and  all  circumstances.  .  .  .  Every  day  try  to 
put  in  practice  something  that  you  read  in  the  Bible.  Remember 
that  being  a  Christian  does  not  take  away  anything  that  is  in- 
nocent and  joyous,  but  only  adds  to  them  higher  and  nobler 
joys." 

"My  dear : 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  have  found  a  pleasant  friend  in  the 
minister.  It  seems  fit  that  the  son  of  a  minister,  whose  father's 
father  was  a  minister,  should  have  a  liking  for  ministers  I  am 
glad,  too,  that  you  are  fortunate  in  having  a  man  who  is  sensible 
enough  to  understand  that  a  Christian  is  not  less  than  a  man. 
Whatever  it  is  right  for  anybody  to  do,  it  is  right  for  a  Christian 
to  do;  and  what  a  Christian  gentleman  may  not  do,  nobody  has 
a  right  to  do.  Religion  regulates 'our  pursuits  and  pleasures,  but 
does  not  destroy  them.  .  .  . 

"You  are  fifteen  years  old;  that  is  close  upon  manhood.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  you  begin  to  look  at  times  quite  seriously 
toward  the  future.  But  fidelity  to  the  present  is  the  best  preparation 
for  the  future.  Do  everything  thoroughly.  Do  not  be  a  superficial 
scholar.     Go  to  the  roots  of  everything  you  study. 

"  As  to  profanity  out  of  doors,  I  should  not,  in  ordinary  cases, 
meddle  much,  especially  in  a  way  that  should  seem  as  though 
you  owned  the  boy,  or  were  responsible  for  his  conduct.  No- 
thing is  more  provoking  to  a  young  person  than  to  have  people 
assume  authority  over  them  in  moral  things.     Blut  in  your  pwn 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  beech  Eh'.  643 

room  it  is  different;  profanity  there  is  an  intrusion  on  your  rights, 
and  is  not  to  be  tolerated.  It'  kind  measures  will  not  che<  k  it, 
then  peremptory  ones  should.  1  would  sa)  to  such  a  one  : 
'  Vou  must  take  your  choice,  to  find  some  other  room  or  to  ob- 
serve the  decencies  of  life  here!'  .  .  .  Now  as  to  your  studies. 
It  is  not  mainly  the  time  employed,  but  the  concentration  of  mind, 
that  induces  rapid  progress.  Mere  scholars  study  without  great 
grasp  and  sharp  and  quick  application  of  thought.  They  take  two 
hours  to  do  what  could  better  be  done  in  one.  In  part  this 
capacity  of  rapid  comprehension  and  accurate  perception  depends 
upon  one's  native  endowments,  but  it  depends  even  more  on  habit 
and  training.  While  you  seek  primarily  accuracy,  you  should 
steadily  aim  with  it  to  accelerate  your  process,  to  see  quicker, 
think  quicker,  decide  quicker.  But  if  you  study  intensely  you 
must  take  much  air.  Don't  be  tempted  to  give  up  a  wholesome 
air-bath,  a  good  walk,  or  skate,  or  ride  every  day.  It  will  pay 
you  back  over  your  books,  by  freshness,  elasticity,  and  clearness 
of  mind.  I  have  noticed  that  lessons  which  require  acuteness  and 
memory  both,  are  best  gotten  by  studying  them  the  last  thing  be- 
fore going  to  bed,  and  then  taking  hold  again  early  in  the  morning. 
That  which  we  study  just  before  sleeping  seems  to  come  out  in 
strong  relief  the  next  day,  if  we  renew  the  impression  by  going 
over  the  work  again.  For  difficult  tasks,  then,  take  this  hint  :  go 
over  just  before  sleeping,  and  review  in  the  morning.  But,  again, 
take  care  of  health  ;  learning  in  a  broken  body  is  like  a  sword 
without  a  handle,  like  a  load  in  a  broken-wheeled  cart,  like 
artillery  with  no  gun-carriage." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  there  is  one  thing  that  will  be  hard,  but 
that  is  to  be  the  root  of  all  success  and  enjoyment — viz.,  the  habit 
of  boning  down  to  things  which  you  don't  like.  In  all  your  after- 
life, your  success  will  depend  upon  your  ability  to  do  things 
which  you  do  not  particularly  like  to  do.  In  other  words,  duty 
must  become  your  watchword,  and  not  pleasure  or  liking." 

"  I  wish,  at  the  beginning  of  your  college  course,  to  say  a  few 
words  which,  if  you  will  read  over  once  in  a  while,  may  help  you. 
You  are  not  in  college  for  the  sake  of  its  pleasures,  or  for  form's 
sake,  but  to  have  your  whole  intellectual  nature  roused  up  and 
brought  into  efficient  drill.  No  matter  what  powers  one  has  by 
nature,  he  requires  thorough  drill  to  know  how  to  use  them.  It 
is  not  wise  for  you  to  choose  a  profession,  long  before  you  have 


644  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

any  knowledge  of  yourself,  with  such  thoroughness  as  is  needful. 
You  are  not  grown  yet  inwardly.  You  do  not  know  your  own 
powers  and  adaptations.  The  business  of  life  is  too  serious  to 
be  settled  upon  before  one  knows  anything  about  his  fitness  for 
one  or  another's  course.  .  .  .  Bear  in  mind  that  life  is  given  you 
not  to  be  trifled  with.  God  will  hold  you  to  strict  account  for 
the  use  you  make  of  your  endowments. 

"  You  were  sent  into  life  to  work  and  be  useful,  not  to  frolic 
and  enjoy  yourself.  You  are  drawing  near  the  time  when  you 
must  begin  life  for  yourselj '.  My  dear  boy,  your  own  soul,  your 
honor,  and  your  father's  name  are  committed  to  your  keeping. 
Guard  them  from  dishonor.  May  God  have  you  in  his  holy 
keeping !  " 

"  I  want  to  say  a  word  to  you  about  your  style.  In  every  en- 
ergetic nature,  the  style,  in  its  essential  spirit,  will  follow  a  man's 
disposition.  So  it  is  somewhere  said  that  '  style  is  the  man.' 
But  while  this  is  true  of  its  spirit,  yet  its  external  form  may  be 
much  modified  and  improved  by  attention  and  care.  Now,  you 
have  never  apparently  made  this  a  matter  of  thought,  and  still 
less  of  study. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  recommend,  in  addition  to  your  other 
studies,  that  you  should  read  on  style,  but  only  this  :  that  in  con- 
versation and  in  your  letters  you  should  begin  to  consider  ease, 
fulness,  grace,  and  scrupulous  accuracy.  I  wish  you  would  get 
from  the  library  a  copy  of  Cowper's  letters  and  read  them,  and 
some  of  them  many  times.  See  what  interest  he  throws  around 
trivial  things  by  an  elegant  way  of  narrating  them.  He  draws 
pictures,  he  puts  daily  trifles  in  an  artistic  light.  He  is  as  thor- 
ough and  complete  in  each  instance  as  if  it  were  a  great  historical 
event,  instead  of  being  a  rabbit's  play,  a  bird's  freak,  or  a  tea- 
table  affair.  The  simplicity  of  his  style,  its  purity  and  clearness, 
its  accuracy,  as  clear  cut  as  is  the  finest  cut-glass  goblet,  are 
worthy  of  notice  and  imitation.  Now,  the  first  step  towards  im- 
provement is  a  consciousness  of  its  necessity,  -then  an  instant  at- 
tempt at  it.  Suppose  you  make  your  letters  a  means  of  prac- 
tice ;  see  that  nothing  is  stated  in  an  awkward  or  slovenly  way  ; 
leave  nothing  merely  hinted  and  left  for  the  reader  to  make  out 
as  best  he  can  ;  and,  generally,  make  it  a  rule  never  in  letters,  nor 
even  in  the  mere  sketchy  memoranda  for  the  purpose  of  study, 
nor  in  your  note-book,  to  do  things  carelessly.     Form  the  habit  of 


Y  WARD  hi  I  CHER.  645 

stating  things  clearly,  and  in  scrupulously  ac<  urate  and  grammati- 
cal language  ;  you  have  formed  the  habit  oi  nol  Letting  your  lips 
tell  falsehoods  ;  now  do  not  let  your  pen  do  so  either,  nor  Lei  it 

tell  half-truths,  nor  grotesque  truths,  but  pure  and  simple  truths, 
as  they  are.     That  is  good  style." 

To  a  young  friend  who  had  much  artistic  ability,  but  who  uras 

discouraged  because  it  was  not  of  the  highest  grade,  he  wrote  : 
,l  Your  note  pained  me   for  your  sake,   as  it  indicated  a  bad 

state  of  ideality.  The  sense  of  the  beautiful  and  of  the  perfect 
was  doigned  to  stimulate  and  not  to  discourage  effort.  We  arc- 
not  to  aim  at  the  highest,  but  the  highest  attainable  by  us.  Here, 
however,  comes  in  that  pride  of  which  you  speak,  and  which  is 
unwise,   inartistic,  unchristian. 

"  Now,  the  province  of  art  may  be  said  to  be  to  make  homely 
things  handsome,  and  good  things  beautiful. 

"  The  power  or  the  gift  of  the  artist  is  not  to  glorify  himself, 
but  to  make  the  way  of  human  life  smoother  to  tender  feet. 
While,  then,  high  art  has  an  important  function,  so  has  decorative 
art.  It  is  the  democratic  form  of  art — i.e.,  the  form  which  allies 
it  to  Christianity. 

"  Washing  the  feet  is  not  an  agreeable  but  a  most  necessary 
act.  *  If  I,  your  Lord  and  Master,  have  washed  your  feet,  ye  also 
ought  to  wash  o?ie  another 's,'  etc.  It  is  the  keynote  of  Christianity 
that  one  should  be  willing  to  serve,  not  rule.  Christ  '  emptied 
Himself  of  reputation,'  'took  upon  Him  the  form  of  a  servant.' 

"  You  are  not  willing  to  do  things  which  give  pleasure  to  com- 
mon people.  You  are  not  willing  to  make  plain  people  happy, 
to  make  common  homes  more  cheerful  and  beautiful.  You  do 
not  join  ideality  to  benevolence,  but  to  self-adoring  pride.  If  you 
could  perform  great  works,  you  would  be  willing  to  toil,  and  even 
suffer.  Being  unable  to  do  that,  you  are  not  willing  to  perform 
the  gentler  offices  of  art,  the  sweetest  and  most  womanly,  and 
give  hues  and  colors  to  those  homely  implements  that  every-day 
life  needs. 

"  If  I  had  your  gifts  and  your  calling,  I  think  that  every  day 
I  should  send  thanks  to  God  that,  though  I  could  not  do  great 
things,  I  could  do  that  which  would  cheer  daily  human  life,  that 
would  cast  a  ray  of  beauty  along  the  homely  path  where  the 
poor   must  walk. 

"It  seems  to  me  that  your  eyes  are  holden,  and   that  you  do 


646  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

not  see  God's  angel  sent  to  you,  saying,  '  Will  you  not  be  a 
worker  together  with  God,  for  all,  and  for  the  lowly  first  ? '  You 
push  him  away  and  say,  with  bitterness,  '  Let  me  help  the  strong, 
the  high,  the  rich,  or  let  me  die.' 

''It  is  a  wicked  pride ,  and  you  must  be  born  again,  and  re- 
peatedly, until  you  can  say  to  your  Lord,  '  I  will  follow  Thee  in 
Thy  poverty,  in  Thy  humiliation,  and  if  need  be  I  will  die  to  the 
highest  ambition,  that  I  may  with  my  whole  soul  work  for  the 
lowly  and  in  a  lowly  way  ! ' 

"  Idealized  pride. 

"  Idealized  conscience. 

"  These  are  your  enemies.  They  stand  between  you  and  your 
life's  work — between  you  and  Him  who  died  for  you. 

"  I  would  never  have  taken  the  trouble  to  write  this,  if  I  did 
not  love  you  so  much,  and  did  not  hope  to  see  you  yet  one  day, 
'  clothed  and  in  your  right  mind,  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.'  " 

It  was  his  idea  that  home  should  be  a  training-school  for  his 
children,  by  precept,  example,  and  by  object-teaching.  Partly 
in  gratification  of  his  own  love  of  learning  and  of  the  beautiful, 
but  more  for  the  training  of  the  family  and  development  of  cor- 
rect tastes  in  all  departments  of  literature  and  art,  he  covered 
his  walls  with  paintings,  etchings,  and  engravings  ;  when  wall- 
space  gave  out,  portfolios,  drawers,  and  cabinets  were  filled 
with  the  choicest  specimens  of  art  that  he  could  find — not  with 
the  zeal  of  a  collector,  who  seeks  the  rare  merely  for  its  rarity, 
but  because  the  thing  itself  was  beautiful,  or  illustrated  some 
type  or  period  of  art.  As  a  result  his  collection  of  prints  fur- 
nished a  good  illustration  of  etching  and  engraving,  from  the 
earliest  rude  woodcuts  of  the  fifteenth  century,  through  the  vari- 
ous growths  of  improvement,  down  to  the  parchment  proofs  of 
the  modern  etcher.  Diirer,  Rembrandt,  Ostade,  Wille,  Schon- 
^auer,  and  many  others,  exemplified  the  old  school,  while 
through  a  multitude  of  the  French,  German,  Italian,  and  Eng- 
lish artists  were  traced  the  growths  of  modern  art.  All  the  wall- 
space  that  could  be  spared  from  the  paintings  and  framed  en- 
gravings was  devoted  to  book-cases  well  filled.  The  ancient  and 
the  English  classics  were  well-nigh  complete,  and  every  modern 
writer  of  note,  in  any  department  of  learning,  could  find  upon  Mr. 
Beecher"s  shelves  the  best  of  his  brain's  offspring.  As  in  art,  so  in 
literature,  he  bought  nothing  because  it  was  rare,  but  only  because 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER.  647 

it  would  gratify  the  higher  tastes  or  could  teach  something. 
The  student  in  any  department  of  art,  science,  manufacture, 
agriculture,  medicine,  or  theology  would  find  in  Mr.  Beecher's 
library  the  best  authorities  in  his  special  branch  of  study,  and 
generally  with  the  marks  of  careful  reading  apparent  upon 
their  pages  ;  while  the  professional  man,  whose  life  had  been 
devoted  to  the  Study  and  practice  of  his  particular  profession, 
has  often  wondered  how  Mr.  Beecher  could  have  found  it  possi- 
ble, with  his  many  duties,  to  acquire  a  theoretic  knowledge,  in 
that  branch  of  learning,  so  accurate  and  comprehensive.  The 
solution  of  the  mystery  lay  in  the  fact  that  he  never  had  to  learn 
a  thing  twice.  The  knowledge  he  acquired  he  retained.  He 
was  remarkably  watchful  and  observant  was  deeply  interested 
in  everything  that  was  going  on  about  him  ;  and  when  he  be- 
came interested  in  a  subject,  would  buy  all  the  books  he  could 
find  that  would  enlighten  him,  and  study  them  carefully.  He  de- 
lighted in  visiting  workshops,  factories,  laboratories,  studios,  and 
all  other  places  where  men  worked,  there  watching  attentively 
the  worker,  and  in  a  few  probing  questions  reaching  such  facts 
as  he  had  failed  to  find  in  his  books — applying  the  precept  he 
gave  his  children  :  learning  what  he  could  by  his  own  observa- 
tion, then  filling  the  gaps  by  questioning. 

While  his  memory  of  words,  dates,  and  the  like  was  very 
bad,  rendering  it  almost  impossible  for  him  to  quote  accurately, 
or  recall  figures  or  dates,  yet  his  memory  of  facts  was  wonder- 
fully accurate.  The  language  by  which  he  learned  a  fact  he 
could  seldom  repeat,  but  the  information  he  never  forgot.  The 
former  was  only  the  shell  ;  it  was  the  meat  of  the  nut  alone 
that  he  cared  for. 

Of  course  in  making  up  his  library  he  bought  many  books 
which  in  fact  he  never  used,  for  he  said  :  "  A  library  is  like  a 
bountiful  table,  on  which  each  guest  can  find  everything  that 
he  wants  ;  yet  it  don't  follow  that  each  guest  must  eat  from 
every  dish.  My  library  is  the  table  for  my  mind,  from  which  I 
take  what  I  want  to-day,  and  from  which  I  can  get  what  I  may 
want  at  any  time  hereafter."  His  library  was  eminently  a  icork- 
ing  library.  Most  of  his  books  were  bought  when  he  was  still 
a  young  minister,  when  economy  and  love  of  books  waged  con- 
stant warfare,  of  which  contest  we  give  his  humorous  descrip- 
tion : 


648  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  Alas !  where  is  human  nature  so  weak  as  in  a  book-store  ? 
Speak  of  the  appetite  for  drink,  or  a  bon-vivanfs  relish  for  din- 
ner !  What  are  these  mere  animal  throes  and  ragings  to  be  com- 
pared with  those  fantasies  of  taste,  of  imagination,  of  intellect, 
which  bewilder  a  student  in  a  great  bookseller's  temptation- 
hall  ?  .  .  . 

"  Then,  too,  the  subtle  process  by  which  the  man  satisfies 
himself  that  he  can  afford  to  buy.  Talk  of  Wall  Street  and 
financiering  !  No  subtle  manager  or  broker  ever  saw  through  a 
maze  of  financial  embarrassments  half  so  quick  as  a  poor  book- 
buyer  sees  his  way  clear  to  pay  for  what  he  must  have.  Why,  he 
will  economize  ;  he  will  dispense  with  this  and  that  ;  he  will 
retrench  here  and  there  ;  he  will  save  by  various  expedients  hith- 
erto untried  ;  he  will  put  spurs  on  both  heels  of  his  industry  ; 
and  then,  besides  all  this,  he  will  somehow  get  along  when  the 
time  for  payment  comes  !  Ah  !  this  Somehow  !  That  word  is 
as  big  as  a  whole  world,  and  is  stuffed  with  all  the  vagaries  and 
fantasies  that  Fancy  ever  bred  on  Hope.  .  .  . 

"  Moreover,  buying  books  before  you  can  pay  for  them  pro- 
motes caution.  You  don't  feel  quite  at  liberty  to  take  them 
home.  You  are  married.  Your  wife  keeps  an  account-book. 
She  knows  to  a  penny  what  you  can  and  what  you  cannot  af- 
ford. She  has  no  '  speculation  '  in  her  eyes.  Plain  figures  make 
desperate  work  with  airy  *  somehows*  It  is  a  matter  of  no  small 
skill  and  experience  to  get  your  books  home,  and  in  their  places, 
undiscovered.  Perhaps  the  blundering  express  brings  them  to 
the  door  just  at  evening.  '  What  is  it,  my  dear  ? '  she  says  to 
you.  i  Oh  !  nothing — a  few  books  that  I  cannot  do  without.' 
That  smile  !  A  true  housewife,  that  loves  her  husband,  can  smile 
a  whole  arithmetic  at  him  in  one  look !  Of  course  she  insists, 
in  the  kindest  way,  in  sympathizing  with  you  in  your  literary 
acquisition.  She  cuts  the  strings  of  the  bundle  (and  of  your 
heart),  and  out  comes  the  whole  story.  You  have  bought  a  whole 
set  of  costly  English  books,  full  bound  in  calf,  extra  gilt  !  You 
are  caught,  and  feel  very  much  as  if  bound  in  calf  yourself,  extra 
gilt,  and  admirably  lettered. 

"  Now,  this  must  not  happen  frequently.  The  books  must 
be  smuggled  home.  Let  them  be  sent  to  some  near  place. 
Then,  when  your  wife  has  a  headache,  or  is  out  making  a  call, 
or  has  lain  down,  run  the  books  across  the  frontier  and  threshold, 


REV.  HENRY  U.iRP  BEECH,  R 


649 


hastil)  undo  them,  stop  only  for  one  loving  glance  as  you  put 
them  away  in  the  closet,  or  behind  other  hooks  on  the  Bhelf,  or 

on  the  topmost  shelf.      Clear  away  the  twine  and  wrapping-paper, 

and  every  suspicions  circumstance.     He  ver)   careful  not  to  be 

too  kind.  That  often  brings  on  detection.  Only  the  other  day 
we  heard  it  said  somewhere  :  '  Why,  how  good  you  have  been 
lately  !  1  am  really  afraid  that  you  have  been  carrying  on  mis- 
chief secretly.'  Our  heart  smote  us.  It  was  a  fact.  That  very 
day  we  had  bought  a  few  books  which  'we  could  not  do  without.' 
After  a  while  you  can  bring  out  one  volume,  accidentally,  and 
leave  it  on  the  table.  '  Why,  my  dear,  what  a  beautiful  book  ! 
Where  did  you  borrow  it?'  You  glance  over  the  newspaper, 
with  the  quietest  tone  you  can  command  :  '  That  1  Oh  !  that  is 
mine.  Have  you  not  seen  it  before  ?  It  has  been  in  the  house 
this  two  months."  And  you  rush  on  with  anecdote  and  incident, 
and  point  out  the  binding,  and  that  peculiar  trick  of  gilding,  and 
everything  else  you  can  think  of ;  but  it  all  will  not  do — you 
cannot  rub  out  that  roguish,  arithmetical  smile.  People  may 
talk  about  the  equality  of  the  sexes  !  They  are  not  equal.  The 
silent  smile  of  a  sensible,  loving  woman  will  vanquish  ten  men. 
Of  course  you  repent,  and  in  time  form  a  habit  of  repenting." 

When  we  consider  how  strongly  developed  was  his  love  of  the 
beautiful,  we  are  not  surprised  at  his  fondness  for  music  and 
precious  stones.  At  first  the  two  seem  widely  dissimilar,  but  to 
his  mind  they  were  only  different  forms  of  the  same  thing,  and 
to  both  he  was  profoundly  impressionable.  Gems  and  precious 
stones  were  only  valued  for  their  color.  They  were  color  crys- 
tallized, and  to  color  he  was  peculiarly  and  strangely  suscepti- 
ble. Music  was  color  expressed  in  terms  of  sound.  The  one 
was  color  to  his  eye,  the  other  to  his  ear.  The  mere  enjoyment 
of  sweet  sounds  and  beautiful  colors  we  can  readily  understand  ; 
it  is  common  to  all  who  can  see  or  hear,  in  greater  or  less  de- 
gree. But  the  marked  peculiarity  in  Mr.  Beecher's  case  was 
what  we  might  describe  as  their  drug  effect.  This  is  not,  perhaps, 
unusual  with  others  in  the  case  of  music,  for,  with  many,  soft  and 
gentle  music  will  quiet  the  excited  mind,  soothe  the  soul,  and 
bring  peace  where  the  tempest  raged.  This  was  so  with  him, 
but  in  a  greater  and  more  marked  degree.  Colors  would  produce 
the  same  effect.  When  disturbed  or  nerve-tired,  or  when,  after 
some  marked  effort  in  the  pulpit  or  upon  the  platform,  he  found 


65O  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

his  brain  aflame  and  every  nerve  keyed  to  the  highest  tension, 
he  would  sit  down  in  his  study,  take  out  from  his  pocket  or  table- 
drawer  an  opal,  garnet,  hyacinth,  or  flashing  diamond,  hold  it 
lovingly  in  his  open  hand,  drinking  in  through  his  eyes  the  soft, 
rich  rays  of  color.  Almost  as  if  by  magic,  the  turgid  veins  on 
brow  and  temple  grew  less  prominent,  the  deep  flush  upon  his  face 
softened  gradually  into  its  natural  color,  the  muscular  tension 
abated,  the  nerve-strain  relaxed,  and  a  soft  and  gentle  peaceful- 
ness  settled  down  upon  him,  like  the  comforting  shadow  of  an 
angel's  wing.  Casting  himself  upon  his  bed,  he  would  sleep  as 
peacefully  as  a  child  upon  its  mother's  bosom. 

A  notable  illustration  of  this  occurred  wThile  in  England  in 
1863.  When  he  returned  to  his  hotel,  after  a  three  hours'  struggle 
with  the  mob  in  the  Philharmonic  Hall  at  Liverpool,  he  found 
himself  still  under  the  excitement  of  the  fierce  strife,  every  nerve 
still  vibrating  under  the  strain.  The  waves  of  thought  and 
imagination  rolled  through  his  brain,  like  the  billows  of  the 
ocean  still  tossing  after  the  gale  has  passed.  He  had  been 
roused  to  the  very  centre  of  his  being,  and  it  promised  to  be  a 
night  of  restless,  sleepless  tossings.  He  had  with  him  an  opal  of 
wonderful  fire  and  color.  Sitting  down  in  his  room,  he  placed 
the  stone  in  his  hand,  and  for  half  an  hour  sat  watching  the  play 
of  its  changing  colors.  As  he  watched,  the  stormy  brain  grew 
quiet,  a  gentle  sense  of  physical  fatigue  and  sleepiness  stole  over 
him,  yielding  to  which  he  went  to  bed,  dropping  at  once  into  a 
quiet,  unconscious  sleep,  unbroken  till,  late  in  the  morning,  he 
awoke,  rested  and  refreshed. 

These  color-opiates  he  always  carried  with  him;  a  dozen  of  the 
finest  stones  were  set  in  rings  and  strung  upon  a  key-ring  carried 
in  his  pocket  ;  while  in  the  recesses  of  some  inner  vest-pocket 
were  hidden  a  number  of  unset  stones,  carefully  wrapped  in 
paper.  His  love  in  that  direction  was  well  known  to  all  the 
prominent  jewellers,  who  laid  aside  for  his  inspection  the  finest 
specimens  of  those  stones  for  which  he  especially  cared.  One 
of  these  gentlemen  writes  : 

"Mr.  Beecher's  love  for  fine  gems  was  neither  on  account  of 
their  value  nor  their  rarity.  He  loved  them  because  they  spoke 
to  him  of  nature  and  the  God  who  rules  nature,  and  this  voice 
appealed  to  him  most  strongly  in  the  specimens  which  possessed 
the  richest  colors.      He  might  admire  a  perfectly  clear  diamond 


REV.  iii.XK  v  WARD  BEECHER.  651 

if  it  was  unusually  brilliant,  but  this  admiration  sank  to  insignifi- 
cance by  the  side  of  that  awakened  by  one  possessing  color. 
'  How  grand,'  he  would  say,  'is  that   nature  which   can  catch  the 

hues  of  the  rainbow  and  fasten  them  in  imperishable  stone  !  The 
rainbow  passes  away,  the  beautiful  flowers  fade,  but  in  the  love- 
liness oi  these  gems  are  held  permanently  the  colors  of  both.' 
In  one  of  my  visits  to  Europe  I  secured  a  magnificent  diamond, 
which  I  am  confident  has  never  been  excelled.  Its  color  is  hard 
to  describe,  but  I  likened  it  to  molten  gold.  I  had  no  commit 
sion  from  Mr.  Beecher  to  purchase  anything  of  this  kind,  but 
nevertheless  it  was  for  him  I  bought  it,  knowing  his  taste  in 
these  matters,  and  consequently  I  resisted  all  temptations  to  sell 
it  abroad,  and  brought  it  home  with  me.  Mr.  Beecher  was 
delighted,  as  I  thought  he  would  be,  and  compared  its  hue  to 
the  deep  reddish  gold  of  a  setting  sun.  This  gem  was  set  in  a 
black  enamelled  ring,  and  was  often  worn  by  him — the  only  jewel 
I  ever  knew  him  to  wear.  He  was  as  loyal  to  the  gems  of  his 
cabinet  as  he  was  to  his  animate  friends,  and  indeed  the  stones 
were  also  his  friends.  Rubies,  sapphires,  amethysts,  topaz,  hya- 
cinths, aqua-marines,  all  were  objects  of  his  deep  love,  not  alone 
because  they  gratified  his  keen  enjoyment  of  color,  but  also  be- 
cause he  seemed  to  read  in  them  a  page  of  the  great  book  of 
nature.  Neither  was  there  any  superstition  connected  with  or 
tainting  this  love.  The  ill-omened  opal  was  a  part  of  his  collec- 
tion when  the  prejudice  against  it  was  strongest,  and,  in  fact,  Mrs. 
Beecher  wore  these  stones  frequently.  I  have  said  that  richly- 
colored  gems  were  his  friends,  and  so  they  were,  and  more. 
From  them  he  gathered  inspiration,  rest,  peace,  and  even  truth 
itself.  He  saw  them,  but  he  also  saw  beyond  them.  Their  colors 
seemed  to  him  to  be  one  of  those  mysteries  through  which  God 
speaks  to  man — a  mystery  in  which  his  spirit  delighted  to  bathe, 
and  from  which  he  seemed  to  inhale  strength  and  much  of  that 
inspiration  which  all  nature  appeared  to  yield  up  to  him  un- 
grudgingly. His  gems  gratified  his  sense  of  sight,  his  sense  of 
poetry,  his  sense  of  a  beautiful  nature,  and,  more  than  all  these, 
his  sense  of  an  omnipotent  divinity.  None  of  them,  that  I  know 
of,  had  any  special  history.  He  loved  them  for  themselves  alone 
and  for  what  they  might  teach  him." 

He  used  to  say  half-jokingly,  but  with  a  great  deal  of  under- 
lying earnestness,  that  it  was  the  duty  of  every  one  to  be  healthy 


652  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

and  strong  ;  that  weakness  was  the  penalty  which  men  had  to 
pay  for  disobeying  the  laws  of  nature,  sins  committed  either  by 
themselves  or  their  parents.  Preservation  of  health  was  a  prime 
duty,  its  waste  a  cardinal  sin. 

As  he  preached,  so  he  practised  ;  he  handled  his  body  as  an 
intelligent  engineer  does  his  engine.  He  made  it  a  matter  of 
careful  study.  He  knew  just  what  he  could  do  with  impunity, 
and  just  what  he  must  avoid.  If  he  found  that  eating  a  certain 
thing  harmed  him,  that  thing  he  left  alone.  For  the  stomach 
was  the  furnace  and  must  be  kept  free  and  clear  ;  if  that  broke 
down,  the  whole  engine  came  to  a  standstill. 

He  studied  the  effect  upon  himself  of  the  various  kinds  of 
food  and  drink,  and  used  them  at  the  times  and  in  the  manner 
which  experience  and  study  taught  him  would  give  the  best 
results. 

Some  things  affected  him  very  peculiarly,  and  of  this  he  took 
advantage  in  their  use.  This  wars  markedly  so  with  tea  and 
coffee.  He  found  that  coffee  produced  a  mild  kind  of  mental 
stimulus  that  made  all  things  look  brighter  and  more  joyous  ;  that 
its  use  before  preaching  stimulated  the  brighter  and  happier  side 
of  his  nature,  adding  a  slightly  roseate  tinge  to  all  he  saw.  It 
was  optimistic.  While  with  tea  the  effect  was  the  reverse.  Ob- 
jects appeared  in  their  more  sober,  sombre  colors.  The  rosy 
faded  into  the  blue,  and  while  it  could  not  be  said  that  he  felt 
depressed  exactly,  yet  the  tendency  was  downward.  Life  seemed 
somewhat  sterner,  its  responsibilities  became  more  prominent,  its 
joys  less  conspicuous.     Tea  was  slightly  pessimistic. 

But,  strangely,  when  he  drank  both,  as  he  usually  did,  they 
held  each  other  in  check  ;  he  then  saw  both  the  lights  and  the 
shadows  of  life  in  their  true  relation  to  one  another.  His  mind 
pursued  the  even  tenor  of  its  way. 

Wines,  beer,  and  their  like  he  never  used  for  pleasure  or  as 
beverages  ;  as  medicines,  in  certain  conditions  of  stomach  dis- 
orders, he  found  them  useful.  But  then,  as  his  library  attests, 
he  first  carefully  studied  and  investigated  the  peculiar  properties 
of  each  that  he  used,  and  confined  their  use  to  the  condition  in 
which  he  found  them  most  useful.  For  instance,  Burgundy  wine 
was  used  only  to  counteract  certain  tendencies  toward  hepatic 
trouble.  Beer  was  used  only  as  a  substitute  for  the  bromides  to 
relieve  insomnia. 


REV.  ///■:. \'.v  v  WARD  Bl  i  <  HER. 

Writing  to  a  friend,  who  had    inquired  anxiously  as  to  the 

truth  of   certain    rumors  respecting    his  use  of   stimulants,  he 

replied  : 

"Brooklyn,  February  21,  1870. 
"  My   DEAR  Sir  : 

"In  reply  to  your  letter  of  February  14th,  I  would  say  that 
1  do  keep  intoxicating  liquors  of  various  kinds  in  my  house,  and 
probably  shall  do  so  as  long  as  I  keep  house.  But  I  am  not  '  in 
the  habit  of  offering  them  to  my  friends  when  they  call.'  No- 
thing can  be  more  false  or  injurious  than  the  impression  con- 
vex ed  by  such  language.  I  keep  them  and  use  them  strictly  and 
always  as  1  would  medicine,  and  I  should  as  soon  think  of  offer- 
ing a  well  man  a  dose  of  rhubarb  as  a  dose  of  brandy. 

"  1  am  a  total  abstainer,  both  in  belief  and  in  practice.  I  hold  that 
no  man  in  health  needs  or  is  the  better  for  alcoholic  stimulants  ; 
that  great  good  will  follow  to  the  whole  community  from  the 
total  disuse  of  them  as  articles  of  diet  or  luxury  ;  and  that  so  soon 
as  the  moral  sense  of  society  will  sustain  such  laws,  it  will  be 
wise  and  right  to  enact  prohibitory  liquor  laws.  My  practice 
strictly  conforms  to  my  precepts.  When  I  was  depressed  in 
health,  at  times,  I  have  made  use  of  various  kinds  of  stimulants, 
precisely  as  I  would  have  used  drugs — indeed,  as  a  substitute 
for  them.  This  has  been  occasional,  exceptional,  and  wholly 
medicinal.   .   .  ." 

Careful  as  he  was  himself,  he  disliked  exceedingly  to  have 
others  looking  after  or  inquiring  about  his  health.  If  unwell, 
he  would  tie  down,  and  in  careful  dieting  and  sleep  soon  find 
relief.  On  such  occasions  he  preferred  to  be  left  to  himself, 
undisturbed  by  questioning  or  fussing.  If  well,  he  repelled  so- 
licitude by  jokes  or  humorous  bantering. 

Exposed  so  constantly  in  his  lecture-tours  (in  one  season 
travelling  twenty-seven  thousand  miles)  to  the  danger  of  accidents, 
and  to  sickness  through  unavoidable  exposures,  it  was  not  strange 
that  Mrs.  Beecher  felt  no  little  anxiety  for  his  welfare,  and  when 
rumors  came  back,  with  the  usual  newspaper  distortions  and  ex- 
aggerations, her  solicitude  would  naturally  be  greatly  increased. 
On  one  occasion,  when  her  anxiety,  in  consequence  of  some  rumor, 
became  too  great  to  be  restrained,  she  wrote  an  anxious  letter  to 
him,  inquiring  about  his  health  and  expressing  her  fears.  She 
received  the  following  characteristic  letter  in  reply  : 


654  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"  My  dear  Wife  : 

"  I  see  that  you  are  incorrigible.  O  cruel  woman  !  will  not 
forty  years  of  incessant  assault  suffice  ? 

"  How  many  heads  have  you  crushed  !  Not  a  bone  in  my 
body  that  you  have  not  broken  ;  not  a  method  of  mutilation  that 
you  have  not  tried.  You  have  plunged  me  down  ravines,  pitched 
me  over  precipices,  drowned  me,  burned  me,  torn  me  asunder. 
I  have  lost  innumerable  arms,  legs,  and  feet.  I  go  limping, 
handless,  toward  I  know  not  what  dire  future.  You  have  con- 
spired with  every  element  of  earth,  air,  and  water,  by  day  and  by 
night,  and  wrung  out  every  terrible  fate  that  ever  poet  sang  or 
Dante  dreamed  of.  I  do  not  think  that  there  is — well  !  well  I 
Just  think  of  this  latest,  I  had  some  disturbance  in  my  stomach 
— you  turn  me  end  for  end  and  call  it  apoplexy.  I  was  faint — 
you  ch ringed  it  to  paralysis.  I  am  getting  to  crouch  and  creep 
through  life  in  fear  that  you  have  set  some  terrible  disaster  upon 
me.  I  think  I  see  leaves  winking  mischief  at  me.  Every  stone 
seems  ready  to  fly  at  me.  Cars  and  engines  are  traps,  and  seem 
to  say,  '  Will  you  walk  into  my  parlor,  Mister  Fly  ? '  .  .  .  I  am 
fighting  fine — my  knees  better,  head  clear  ;  and  if  I  only  had 
a  wife  "  (Mrs.  Beecher  was  then  in  Florida)  "  I  should  be  per- 
fect." 

What  a  careful  observance  of  the  rules  of  health  did  toward 
keeping  his  body  in  thorough  working  order,  sleep  did  for  his 
brain.  Every  hour  of  sleep  that  he  could  gei;  he  counted  clear 
gain  ;  but  even  that  was  regulated  according  to  the  drafts  made 
upon  his  brain.  During  vacation  time,  or  when  he  had  but  little 
work  on  hand — rare  occasions — he  found  the  night's  rest  suffi- 
cient. But  on  Sundays,  while  lecturing,  or  when  pressed  by 
mental  work  of  any  kind,  he  would  supplement  the  night  with 
a  long  nap  in  the  afternoon.  So  long  as  he  kept  his  health  and 
had  sleep  enough,  no  amount  of  work  tired  him.  Under  such 
circumstances  it  might  almost  be  said  that  his  brain  worked  spon- 
taneously ;  thinking  came  as  easily  and  naturally  to  him  as 
breathing. 

He  was  spared  the  mental  drudgery  that  oppresses  so  many 
men.  His  own  illustration  was  that  "  some  men  are  like  live 
springs,  that  bubble  up  and  flow  perpetually  ;  while  others  are  like 
pumps — one  must  work  the  handle  for  all  the  water  he  gets." 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEEC1IER.  655 

His  methods  of  preparation  for  the  pulpit  were  pe<  uliar.     In 

one  sense  his  whole  life  was  a  constant  preparation,  for  lit-  was 
always  observing  and  studying,  laying  up  stores  for  future  use, 
seldom  knowing  just  when  he  would  utilize  the  material,  yet 
sooner  or  later  employing  it  all.  His  memory  was  a  great  maga- 
zine, filled  with  ammunition,  on  which  he  drew  as  the  occasion 
required.  This  might  be  called  his  general  preparation.  Just 
before  preaching  or  speaking  he  would  enter  into  his  special  pre- 
paration, unlock  the  magazine,  and  lay  out  the  material  he  wished 
to  use.  This  he  would  do  just  in  advance  of  speaking  (his  am- 
munition was  highly  volatile,  and,  if  left  exposed  too  long,  was 
apt  to  evaporate  and  be  lost). 

His  Sunday-morning  sermons  were  prepared  after  breakfast, 
and  the  evening  sermons  after  tea.  He  would  retire  to  his  study 
and  think  out  the  result  which  he  wished  to  reach,  making  out- 
line notes  of  the  steps  by  which  he  proposed  to  reach  it.  He 
could  never  preach  a  sermon  on  a  given  topic  unless  it  was  in  his 
mind.  It  sometimes  happened  that  after  wrestling  with  his  sub- 
ject in  his  study  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  finally  preparing  a  very 
unsatisfactory  outline  of  what  he  wanted  to  preach,  he  would  go 
to  his  church,  and,  while  the  choir  were  singing  the  opening 
hymn,  the  whole  subject  would  come  up  before  his  mind  in  the 
form  he  wanted.  Hastily  tearing  a  fly-leaf  from  his  hymn-book, 
or  taking  the  back  of  his  notes,  he  would  sketch  out  in  a  few 
lines  the  new-born  sermon,  which  would  perhaps  occupy  an  hour 
in  its  delivery.  These  were  very  apt  to  be  among  his  best  ser- 
mons. 

Speaking  on  this  subject,  he  once  said  :  "  My  whole  life  is  a 
general  preparation.  Everything  I  read,  everything  I  think,  all 
the  time,  whether  it  is  secular,  philosophic,  metaphysic,  or  scien- 
tific— it  all  of  it  goes  into  the  atmosphere  with  me  ;  and  then, 
when  the  time  comes  for  me  to  do  anything — I  do  not  know  why 
it  should  be  so,  except  that  I  am  of  that  temperament — it  crystal- 
lizes, and  very  suddenly  too,  and  so  much  of  it  as  I  am  going  to 
use  for  that  distinct  time  comes  right  up  before  my  mind  in  full 
form,  and  I  sketch  it  down  and  rely  upon  my  facility,  through 
long  experience,  to  give  utterance  and  full  development  to  it 
after  I  come  before  an  audience.  There  is  nothing  in  this  world 
that  is  such  a  stimulus  to  me  as  an  audience.  It  wakes  up  the 
power  of  thinking  and  wakes  up  the  power  of  imagination  in  me." 


656 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


After  a  speech  or  sermon  had  once  been  formed  in  his  mind, 
if  not  soon  delivered,  it  would  evaporate  and  be  lost.  While  he 
might  recall  it,  it  would  be  in  different  form. 

When  in  the  delivery,  and  the  thoughts  were  surging  at  full 
tide  through  his  brain,  he  became  like  one  inspired,  but  half- 
conscious  of  his  external  surroundings. 

The  sermon  once  preached,  and  his  mind  quieted  down  to  its 
normal  condition,  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  recall  or  re- 
peat the  words  and  expressions  that  had  but  just  left  his  lips. 
The  general  outline,  the  result,  he  could  of  course  recall,  but  the 
language  was  a  part  of  the  inspiration,  and  left  him  with  it. 

His  reply  to  one  asking  for  a  copy  of  a  prayer  illustrates  this  : 

"  You  request  me  to  send  you  the  prayer  made  on  Decora- 
tion Day  evening.  If  you  will  send  me  the  notes  of  the  oriole 
that  whistled  from  the  top  of  my  trees  last  June,  or  the  irides- 
cent globes  that  came  in  by  millions  on  the  last  waves  that  rolled 
in  on  the  beach  yesterday,  or  a  segment  of  the  rainbow  of  last 
week,  or  the  perfume  of  the  first  violet  that  blossomed  last  May, 
I  will  also  send  you  the  prayer  that  rose  to  my  lips  with  the 
occasion,  and  left  me  for  ever.  I  hope  it  went  heavenward 
and  was  registered  there,  in  which  case  the  only  record  of  it 
will  be  found  in  heaven." 

The  thought  and  labor  necessary  to  keep  up  with  his  duties 
as  pastor,  editor,  and  lecturer  would  seem  to  have  been  enough 
to  tax  to  the  uttermost  his  time  and  strength.  But,  by  a  kind  of 
selfish  blindness,  the  general  public  seemed  wholly  unconscious  of 
the  value  of  his  time.  By  post  or  in  person,  an  unending  stream 
poured  in  upon  him,  seeking  everything  that  human  ingenuity  or 
perversity  could  suggest. 

Begging  for  help  in  every  conceivable  form.  One  wanted 
three  thousand  dollars  to  lift  the  mortgage  from  his  farm.  A 
clergyman  in  distress  asked  for  a  thousand,  saying  that  the  Lord 
would  repay  it.  A  young  theologian  asked  that  Mr.  Beecher 
would  write  him  a  lecture  that  he  might  deliver,  and  from  its 
proceeds  pay  his  education  for  the  ministry.  A  school-girl 
requested  that  he  write  for  her  a  composition,  suggesting  the 
topic  and  briefly  outlining  the  way  she  wished  it  treated.  An- 
other came  in  person  from  a  distant  State,  requesting  that  he 
adopt  and  educate  her  ;  as  she  had  exhausted  her  means  com- 
ing on,  he  had  to  pay  her  fare  back,    One  man,  who  had  discov- 


.   HE  NRY  WAR  I  >  B  £  E  CHER. 

ercd  the  lot  alitj  oi  ( iaptain  Kidd's  treasures,  wanted  him  to 
the  expense  of  their  exhumation,  the  profits  to  be  divided.     1  h 
aw  a  few  actual  incidents  in  the  line  ol  begging  lett( 

He  has  described  the  <  allers  : 

"It  is  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  day  is  begun.  The 
family  arc  emerging.  Breakfast  will  be  read)  in  half  an  hour. 
You  look  for  the  Tribune.  The  bell  rings.  A  man  has  <  ailed 
thus  early  for  fear  you  might  be  out.  You  despatch  his  busim 
Sitting  down  to  breakfast,  the  bell  rings,  and  the  servant  says  the 
man  will  wait.  But  what  pleasure  can  one  have  at  a  meal  with  a 
man  upstairs  waiting  for  him,  and  the  consciousness  of  it  hasten- 
ing the  coffee  and  the  toast  on  their  way  ?  You  run  up.  Can 
you  marry  a  couple  at  so-and-so?  That  is  settled.  Prayers  are 
had  with  the  family.  The  bell  rings  once,  twice,  three  times. 
When  you  rise  there  are  five  persons  waiting  for  you  in  the  front 
parlor.  A  young  man  from  the  country  wishes  your  name  on  his 
circular  for  a  school.  A  young  woman,  in  failing  health  by  con- 
finement to  sewing,  does  not  know  what  to  do  ;  behind  in  rent  ; 
cannot  get  away  to  the  country;  does  not  wish  charity,  only 
wishes  some  one  to  enable  her  to  break  away  from  a  state  of 
things  that  will  in  six  months  kill  her.  Another  calls  to  inquire 
after  a  friend  of  whom  he  has  lost  sight.  While  you  are  attend- 
ing to  these  the  bell  is  active,  and  other  persons  take  the  place  of 
those  who  go.  A  poor  slave-mother  wants  to  buy  her  son's  wife 
out  of  slavery.  A  kind  woman  calls  in  behalf  of  a  boarder  who 
is  out  of  place,  desponding,  will  throw  himself  away  if  he  cannot 
get  some  means  of  livelihood.    Another  calls  to  know  if  I  will  not 

visit  a  poor  family  in  great  distress  in Street.     A  good  and 

honest-looking  man  comes  next  ;  is  out  of  work,  has  '  heard  that 
your  "  riverince  "  is  a  kind  man,'  etc.  Another  man  wants  to  get 
his  family  out  from  Ireland  ;  can  pay  half,  if  some  one  will  inter- 
cede with  ship-owners  to  trust  him  the  balance.  A  stranger  has 
died,  and  a  sexton  desires  a  clergyman's  services.  Several  per- 
sons desire  religious  conversation.  It  is  after  ten  o'clock.  A 
moment's  lull.  You  catch  your  hat  and  run  out.  Perhaps  you 
have  forgotten  some  appointment.  You  betake  yourself  to  your 
study,  not  a  little  flurried  by  the  contrariety  of  things  which  you 
have  been  considering.  You  return  to  dine.  There  are  five  or 
six  persons  waiting  for  you.  At  tea  you  find  Others  al§o,  with 
their  divers  necessities. 


658  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

"This  is  not  overdrawn,  and  for  months  of  the  year  it  is  far 
underdrawn.  There  is  no  taxation  compared  to  incessant  va- 
rious conversation  with  people  for  whom  you  must  think,  de- 
vise, and  for  whose  help  you  feel  yourself  often  utterly  incompe- 
tent." 

Half  of  his  life-work  would  have  been  left  undone  had  he 
attempted  to  have  given  the  letters  and  callers  his  personal  atten- 
tion. All  that  related  to  his  pastoral  duties,  and  much  besides, 
he  attended  to  personally.  The  rest  he  turned  over  to  his  wife. 
If  his  life  has  been  a  benefit  to  mankind,  then  the  world  owes  a 
heavy  debt  of  gratitude  to  her  for  the  self-sacrificing  protection 
she  afforded  him.  She  was  his  helpmeet  indeed  ;  nine-tenths  of 
his  correspondence  she  carried  on.  Few  save  his  church-mem- 
bers and  personal  friends  had  access  to  him  until  she  had  first 
learned  their  errand,  and  determined  whether  the  case  was  one 
that  should  be  brought  to  his  attention.  Yet,  with  all  this  care, 
he  seldom  saw  less  than  ten  or  a  dozen  callers  each  day  while  he 
was  at  home. 

The  drain  upon  his  purse  was  constant,  for  he  could  hardly 
withstand  a  tale  of  suffering  and  want.  Of  course  he  was  not 
infrequently  imposed  upon,  as  every  generous  man  is  apt  to  be. 
He  used  to  say  that  the  satisfaction  of  relieving  one  really  de- 
serving sufferer  was  compensation  enough  to  make  up  for  being 
swindled  ten  times. 

Nor  was  his  generosity,  or  its  abuse,  confined  to  those  who 
sought  material  aid.  Among  those  who  engaged  his  affection 
and  confidence,  some  there  were  who,  Judas-like,  turned  against 
him  when  it  seemed  for  their  interest  to  do  so.  Toward  these  he 
never  felt  resentment,  save  momentarily  under  the  smart  of  some 
sudden,  treacherous  blow.  The  love  which  he  once  gave  to  a 
friend  he  never  forgot.  He  would  be  very  slow  to  believe  any 
one,  once  trusted,  to  be  unworthy,  and  never  lost  a  deep  and  ten- 
der feeling  for  such,  even  after  he  felt  that  they  were  unworthy 
of  confidence.  It  was  this  feeling  that  led  to  no  little  criticism 
at  the  hands  of  those  whose  cynicism  made  trusting  hard  and 
hating  easy.  By  these  his  tender,  sympathetic  trustfulness  was 
called  "gush"  and  "slopping  over."  To  their  criticisms  he 
replied  : 

"  I  suppose  I  do  slop  over  sometimes.  Well,  I  never  saw  a 
pan  just  full  of  milk  that  did  not  slop  over.     If  you  do  not  want 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECH ER.  659 

any  slopping-over,  take  a  pint  of  milk  and  put  it  in  a  big  bucket. 
There  will  be  do  slopping-over  then.     And  a  man  «rho  has  only 

a  pint  of  feeling,  in  an  enormous  bucket,  never  slops  over.     But 

it"  a  man  is  full  of  feeling,  up  to  the  very  brim,  how  is  he  going 
to  cany  himself  without  spilling  over  ?  He  cannot  help  it. 
There  will  be  dripping  over  the  edges  all  the  time.  And  as 
every  flower  or  blade  of  grass  rejoices  when  the  rain  falls  upon 
it,  so  every  recipient  along  the  way  in  which  a  man  with  over- 
flowing generous  feeling  walks,  is  thankful  for  his  bounty. 

"  How  to  carry  a  nature  full  of  feeling,  and  administer  it 
without  making  mistakes,  I  do  not  know,  you  do  not,  nobody 
does,  nobody  ever  did,  and  nobody  ever  will  ;  so  we  must  take 
it  and  get  along  as  best  we  can.  Life  is  a  kind  of  zigzag,  any- 
how ;  and  we  are  obliged  to  resort  to  expedients,  and  make  ex- 
periments, and  learn  from  our  blunders,  which  are  inevitable. 
We  find  out  a  great  deal  more  from  men's  mistakes  than  from 
their  successes. 

"  But,  after  all,  I  am  not  sorry  that  I  have  been  imposed 
upon,  and  that  I  have  trusted  men  that  were  not  worthy  to  be 
trusted.  I  am  not  sorry  that  I  have  been  duped.  It  falls  out 
from  an  abundance  of  generous  feeling.  It  is  the  mistake  of  a 
disposition  that  I  think  it  is  a  great  deal  better  to  have,  with  all 
the  impositions  which  it  suffers,  than  that  kind  of  cold  caution 
which  prevents  your  venturing  anything  on  the  side  of  kindness, 
because  you  always  want  to  be  safe. 

"  I  was  much  impressed  with  what  I  once  heard  my  father 
say.  His  chance  sayings  have  been  like  rudders  to  me  all  my 
lifelong.  A  man  whom  he  had  befriended,  and  done  a  great  deal 
for,  turned  against  him  and  acted  very  meanly.  One  day  father 
came  home  very  much  exercised  about  it,  and  I  expected  he  was 
going  to  blow  out — for  he  shook  his  head  in  a  peculiar  way  that 
he  had  when  his  feelings  were  very  much  wrought  up.  He  said 
(raising  his  hand,  and  bringing  it  down  slowly,  but  with  great 
emphasis),  '  Well,  when  I  have  acted  honorably  toward  a  man, 
and  he  goes  away  and  acts  meanly  toward  me,  I  am  never  sorry 
that  /  acted  honorably  toward  him  !  ' 

"  Now,  I  think  that  was  a  sign  of  nobility." 

Plymouth  Church,  although  the  principal  field  of  his  ministe- 
rial work,  was  not  by  any  means  his  only  pastorate  ;  he  had  a 
number  of  other  subsidiary  pulpits.     Most  prominent  among  them 


660  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

was  the  White  Mountains.  Such  was  his  thirst  for  work  in 
the  helds  of  his  Master,  he  made  even  his  infirmities  an  instru- 
mentality for  good.  For  nearly  thirty  years  he  had  been  afflicted 
with  that  but  little  understood  American  malady,  "hay  fever," 
which  attacked  him  every  year  about  the  16th  of  August,  almost 
to  the  day.  For  nearly  six  weeks  he  suffered  the  torments  v\ 
that  distressing  malady  ;  during  which  reading,  writing,  and 
almost  all  forms  of  mental  work  were  impossible. 

Finally  his  attention  was  called  to  the  exemption  which  the 
clear,  bracing  air  of  the  White  Mountains  afforded,  and,  trying 
the  experiment,  happily  found  complete  relief.  The  first  year 
or  two  he  merely  rested,  but  after  that  he  began  holding,  at  first, 
informal  services  Sundays  ;  then  the  large  hotel  parlor  became 
the  church,  and  every  Sunday  morning  he  preached.  Soon  the 
demand  for  more  room  crowded  them  out,  and  then  one  of  the 
great  tents  used  in  the  State  fairs  was  secured,  filled  with  benches. 
Here,  during  the  last  two  or  three  years  that  he  visited  the  Twin 
Mountain  House,  he  preached  regularly  every  Sunday  during  his 
six  weeks'  vacation. 

From  the  neighboring  hotels  and  all  the  adjacent  towns  the 
people  came  by  hundreds,  filling  the  great  tent.  Each  morning, 
after  breakfast,  fifty  to  a  hundred  of  the  guests  would  gather  in 
one  of  the  smaller  rooms  and  join  with  Mr.  Beecher  in  family 
prayers.  To  these  he  read  a  chapter  from  the  Bible,  briefly  ex- 
pounding its  meaning,  and  then  made  a  short  prayer. 

Another  field  in  which  he  worked,  widely  different  from  anv 
other,  was  the  State  militia.  In  January,  1S7S,  he  was  invited  to 
take  the  chaplaincy  of  the  "  Brooklyn  Thirteenth,"  as  it  was 
called,  and  accepted  the  invitation.  His  reasons  for  this  step 
we  give  in  his  own  words  : 

"  It  was  not  because  I  had  nothing  to  do,  and  wanted  to  fill 
up  vacant  time.  It  was  not,  certainly,  because  I  have  any  emi- 
nent military  gifts,  or  what  might  be  called  a  military  spirit,  by 
which  I  am  led  to  delight  in  such  things.  I  was  as  much  sur- 
prised as  any  one  could  be  when  the  invitation  came  through 
Colonel  Austen,  bearing  the  request  of  all  the  officers  and  all  the 
privates  in  this  regiment  that  I  should  act  as  their  chaplain. 

"  After  the  surprise  had  a  little  subsided,  of  course  my  first 
impulse  was  to  say.  '  Xo.  I  cannot.'  My  second  thought  was, 
'  Is  it  a  matter  simply  of  your  own  convenience,  or  is   there   a 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  66  I 

mural  duty   1  The  question   came,   Dot  exactly  'Should 

you  ? '  but,  'Why  should  you  not  ?'  Is  it  no!  an  eminent!) 
.iiul  proper  thing  tor  a  body  of  citizen- soldiery  to  have  a  chap- 
lain, and  ought  we  not  to  be  grateful  that  they  desire  it  ?  Made 
u|>,  as  our  regiments  arc,  <>t  young  men  in  the  prime  of  life,  in 
this  mu\  in  all  associations  of  men,  unrestrained  and  un<  ivilized, 
one  might  almost  say,  in  the  absence  of  woman,  great  mischiefs 
have  often  ensued  from  a  relaxation  of  moral  principle,  a  sort  of 
vortex  being  formed,  down  which  young  men  might  slide  to  their 
destruction  ;  and  therefore  it  is  a  matter  of  importance  that  they 
should  have  a  moral  influence  thrown  about  them.  And  when 
the  request  came  from  the  Thirteenth  that  I  would  act  as  their 
chaplain,  it  seemed  to  me  that  somebody  ought  to  answer  their 
request  ;  and  there  were  some  reasons  why  I  thought  I  should 
answer  it.  I  was  forward  in  all  those  movements  which  brought 
on  the  war,  and  during  the  whole  period  of  the  conflict  I  did  as 
much  as  I  possibly  could  to  bear  my  part  of  the  responsibility  ; 
and  with  the  end  of  the  war,  to  drop  the  whole  matter  of  our 
citizen-soldiery  and  show  no  more  interest  in  them,  to  throw 
them  aside  as  an  instrument  employed  and  worn  out  and  no 
longer  of  use,  did  not  appear  to  me  wise  or  proper. 

"  Moreover,  many  of  these  young  men  belong  to  my  congre- 
gation and  to  my  parish  ;  they  were  therefore  in  some  sense  my 
own  sheep,  after  whom  I  ought  to  look  ;  and  I  reasoned  that  if 
it  was  desirable  to  have  a  citizen-soldiery  as  a  kind  of  back- 
ground on  which  civil  authority  could  retreat  in  times  of  great 
peril,  it  was  eminently  desirable  that  that  soldiery  should  be 
moral,  manly,  expert,  and  in  every  way  fitted  for  the  high  task 
to  which  they  were  assigned. 

"  Under  those  circumstances,  because  I  am  an  old  citizen 
here,  because  I  have  a  right  in  some  sense  to  be  a  father  to  the 
young  men  in  this  neighborhood,  and  because  I  very  heartily  be- 
lieve in  the  formation  of  these  centres  of  citizen-soldiery,  I  did 
not  feel  at  liberty  to  shrink  from  the  duty  that  was  laid  upon  me; 
and  I  went  with  the  hope  and  purpose,  not  simply  as  a  mere  re- 
cipient of  courtesy,  but  with  the  feeling  that  I  might  be  able  to 
do  them  good — to  do  them  good  in  the  first  instance  as  soldiers, 
and  in  the  second  instance  as  men." 

As  their  chaplain  he  preached  to  his  "boys  " — as  he  was  fond 
of  calling  them — at  stated  intervals,  and,  as  far  as  his  other  en- 


662  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

gagements  permitted,  attended  at  their   reviews  and   public  pa- 
rades. 

Of  course  his  inexperience  in  military  matters  led  to  many 
amusing  incidents. 

Being  a  capital  horseman,  he  found  no  trouble  in  maintaining 
himself  in  his  saddle  ;  but  when  it  came  to  manipulating  his 
sword,  his  troubles  began.  Then  the  path  to  martial  glory  did  not 
seem  easy.  His  first  trouble  was  to  get  his  sword  drawn  ;  once 
drawn,  he  was  puzzled  to  know  what  on  earth  to  do  with  it.  He 
almost  invariably  neglected  to  salute  his  reviewing  officer,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  his  fellow-members  on  the  staff,  who  en- 
joyed bantering  him.     As  one  of  his  colonels  remarked  : 

"His  temporal  sword  was  a  source  of  some  anxiety  to  him, 
and  he  always  drew  it  with  reluctance,  preferring,  as  he  said,  to 
wield  the  more  familiar  'sword  of  the  spirit.'" 

Next  to  his  sword  the  receipt  of  military  orders  bothered 
him  most,  leading  often  to  humorous  comments  to  those  about 
him  or  to  his  commanding  officer.  To  one  of  these  orders  he 
replied  : 

"December  19,  1884. 
"My  dear  Colonel: 

"  I  enclose  a  circular  with  a  humble  request  for  its  interpreta- 
tion. It  is,  without  doubt,  clear  as  crystal  to  the  military  mind, 
but  to  my  peaceful  mind  it  is  as  dark  as  theology,  or  a  pocket, 
or  midnight,  or  a  wolf's  mouth. 

"  It  orders,  first  and  beginning,  that  we  are  to  come  in  fatigue 
uniform,  without  side-arms. 

"  It  ends  by  ordering  us  to  bring  our  best  coat,  knots,  and 
swords.  I  humbly  inquire  whether  one  end  of  this  letter  does 
not  seem  to  eat  up  the  other. 

"  Shall  I  wear  my  resplendent  chapeau  or  my  ridiculous  cap, 
in  which  I  look  like  a  pumpkin  with  a  ribbon  around  it  ?  Shall 
I  wear  my  coat  and  golden  straps,  or  my  other  military  coat, 
which  I  have  not  got,  and  never  had  ? 

"  Lastly,  may  I  go  directly  to  Historical  Hall,  and  not  to  the 
armory  ? 

"  I  am,  your  ignorant  chaplain  and  captain, 

u  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

"  Are  overcoats  forbidden  ?  Thermometer  nearly  down  to 
zero  ! " 


AY-  r.  HENK  )    U   ;:..  HER,  66  \ 

On  another  occasion  receiving  a  circular  punted  by  one  oi 
the  reduplicating  processes  then  in  vogue,  but  which  was  nearly 
illegible  from  the  paleness  of  the  ink,  he  wrote  the  colonel : 

"  February  12,  1885. 
"  My  dear  Colonel  : 

M  I  do  admire  black  ink  and  legible  writing.  I  return  you  a 
model.     Do  help  me. 

44  (1)  Is  this  a  spiritual  communication — from  some  feeble 
spirit  to  some  pale-ink  medium  ?  How  shall  I  reply  ?  Do  you 
keep  a  heavenly  mail  ? 

44  (2)  Or  is  it  from  Wolseley,  asking  me  to  come  to  the 
Soudan  ?     I  cannot  go,  of  course,  without  your  permission. 

U  (3)  Or  is  it  merely  an  advertisement  of  a  writing-master, 
showing  how  to  increase  piety  by  teaching  men  to  live  (and  read) 
by  faith,  and  not  by  sight? 

"  (4)  In  that  case  have  you  got  any  more  clerks — who  can 
write  invisible  messages  ?  I  might  want  them  for  my  Sunday- 
schools. 

44  (5)  You  ought  to  send  out  a  reader  (if  this  is  a  military 
document)  to  inform  all  who  read  it  what  it  says. 

"  (6)  On  the  theory  that  it  is  a  regimental  order,  I  shall  soon 
commence  studying  the  tactics,  and  be  ready  for  a  parade — 
which,  if  it  resembles  the  waiting,  ought  to  take  place  at  mid- 
night, after  the  moon  is  gone,  by  the  light  of  oil  street-lamps. 

44  H.  W.  15." 

As  chaplain  he  enjoyed  the  "  rank  and  pay"  of  captain,  and 
on  all  military  occasions  was  addressed  as  "  Captain  Beecher." 
A  few  years  after  his  appointment,  being  at  the  New  England 
dinner  with  General  Grant,  the  latter  referred  to  him  several 
times  as  "major."  Supposing  it  to  be  a  slip  of  the  tongue, 
"  Captain"  Beecher  said  nothing  about  it.  A  few  nights  later  they 
met  again  at  some  other  public  dinner,  when  the  general  per- 
sisted in  calling  him  '4  colonel";  then  the  captain  protested,  but 
Grant  assured  him  laughingly  that  the  next  time  he  should  pro- 
mote him  to  be  general,  "  and  if  you  don't  keep  on  going  higher 
it  will  be  because  the  titles  give  out."  We  believe  he  never  got 
above  "  general." 

All  of  those  who  were  familiar  with  Mr.  Beecher,  either  in  the 


664  &EV'  HEXRY   WARD   BEECHER.^ 

pulpit,  on  the  platform,  or  in  social  life,  are  familiar  with  that 
moral  courage  which  led  him  to  face  unhesitatingly  an  adverse 
public  sentiment  in  defence  of  what  he  believed  to  be  right.  The 
preceding  pages  are  filled  with  many  illustrations  of  this. 

His  physical  courage,  though  perhaps  not  so  well  known  to 
the  public,  was  quite  as  pronounced  as  his  moral  courage.  Ath- 
letic, self-reliant,  and  in  his  younger  days  wonderfully  agile,  he 
faced  the  most  threatening  danger  without  a  tremor  of  his  nerve. 

In  his  advocacy  of  the  slave  he  daily  carried  his  life  in  his 
hands.  At  Liverpool  he  faced  undaunted  an  imminent  danger, 
no  doubt  largely  averted  by  the  utter  fearlessness  of  his  bearing. 
But  in  more  marked  degree  was  his  courage  shown  in  an  inci- 
dent, never  made  public,  that  occurred  soon  after  he  settled  in 
Brooklyn. 

A  rabid  dog,  with  lolling  tongue  and  dripping  jaws,  threaten- 
ing death  in  its  most  frightful  form,  appeared  suddenly  in  the 
street  near  his  house,  and  fortunately  ran  for  a  moment  into  the 
area  under  the  front-door  steps  of  a  neighbor's  house,  where  he  lay 
crouching  in  the  corner,  with  his  glaring  eyes  turned  to  the  door- 
way. In  the  street  children  were  playing ;  at  any  moment,  the 
impulse  to  spring  out  might  seize  the  beast.  Seeing  the  danger, 
Mr.  Beecher  sprang  instantly  to  the  area-door,  within  less  than 
four  feet  of  the  crouching  brute,  and  closed  the  gate.  Stepping 
back  to  his  house,  he  got  his  axe.  When  he  returned  the  dog 
was  rushing  furiously  around  in  the  confined  space,  striving  to 
get  out.  Raising  the  axe  with  one  hand,  with  the  other  Mr. 
Beecher  opened  the  area-door,  and  as  the  dog  sprang  at  him 
struck  him  dead  with  one  blow. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

18S6 — England  Revisited — Speaking  in  the  City  Temple — Westminster 
Abbey — Lecturing  through  Great  Britain — Addressing  the  Theological 
Students  at  City  Temple — "  Life  of  Christ  " — Sickness— Rest. 

FOR  several  years  before  his  death  earnest  efforts  were  made 
to  induce  Mr.  Beecher  to  revisit  England.  His  manly  fight 
against  such  odds,  in  1863,  had  quite  captured  the  heart  of 
the  English  people,  who  always  have  a  tender  feeling  for  a  good 
fighter. 

What  began  as  admiration  steadily  grew  and  deepened  into 
affection.  His  sermons,  his  writings,  and  even  the  meagre  reports 
of  lectures  and  speeches,  were  eagerly  read — quite  as  much  so  in 
England  as  in  America. 

And  when  the  great  cloud  of  scandal  loomed  up  in  1873-6, 
none  were  any  more  steadfast  and  loyal  in  love  and  confidence 
than  the  friends  in  old  England.  Among  the  many  testimonials 
treasured  by  his  family  are  the  resolutions  of  sympathy  and  con- 
fidence received  from  clerical  associations  in  England,  Scotland, 
Wales,  and  even  from  the  distant  provinces. 

With  each  succeeding  year  the  importunities  that  he  should 
spend  a  summer  in  England  increased,  until,  in  the  early  spring 
of  1886,  he  finally  decided  to  brave  the  discomforts  of  an  ocean 
voyage — to  him  no  slight  trial — and  visit  again  his  English 
friends.  This  being  a  trip  of  peace  and  not  of  war,  he  deter- 
mined to  take  Mrs.  Beecher  with  him.  His  decision  was  made 
the  latter  part  of  May.  The  next  Sunday  he  made  the  an- 
nouncement from  the  pulpit.  On  the  following  Sunday  he 
preached  his  farewell.  The  church  was  packed,  if  possible,  fuller 
than  usual,  the  throng  crowding  around  the  pulpit-steps  at  the 
close  of  the  service  to  say  farewell. 

He  engaged  passage  on  the  Etruria  for  Saturday,  June  19. 
The  Friday  night  preceding  the  regular  prayer-meeting  night  be- 
came a  regular  leave-taking.  The  services  were  over  by  nine 
o'clock,  and  from  that  hour  until  eleven  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beecher 

665 


666  #EV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

were  the  centre  of  a  circle  of  friends  that  filled  the  lecture-room 
and  overflowed  into  the  church  auditorium,  anxious  to  shake 
hands  and  say  God-speed. 

The  Etraria  was  to  start  early  Saturday  morning,  so  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Beecher  went  aboard  Friday  night. 

Promptly  at  six  o'clock  the  hawsers  were  cast  off,  and  the 
great  steamer  slowly  drew  out  from  the  pier,  and,  gathering  head- 
way, turned  her  prow  eastward  and  slowly  steamed  down  the 
bay.  Almost  simultaneously  the  excursion  steamer  Grand  Re- 
public, with  three  thousand  friends — whose  enthusiastic  affection 
had  called  them,  before  the  sun  was  up,  to  pay  their  farewell  trib- 
ute— left  her  wharf  in  Brooklyn  to  intercept  the  Etruria  in  the 
Upper  Bay.  Just  off  Liberty  Island  the  Etruria  slowed  down 
and  the  Grand  Republic  came  alongside ;  her  passengers,  crowd- 
ing to  the  nearer  guards,  gave  vent  to  their  feelings  in  ringing 
cheers.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beecher,  standing  on  the  upper  deck,  re- 
sponded with  hat  and  handkerchief.  The  band  aboard  the  Grand 
Republic  played  "  Hail  to  the  Chief,"  the  whistles  of  the  steam- 
ers saluted,  and  as  the  Etruria,  getting  under  way  again, 
forged  rapidly  ahead,  the  choir  of  Plymouth  Church  sang  the 
Doxology,  the  sweetly  solemn  notes  growing  fainter  as  the  steam- 
ers drew  apart. 

Going  below,  they  found  their  staterooms  literally  embanked 
in  flowers.  One  enthusiastic  friend  had  left  twenty  homing 
pigeons,  with  instructions  to  release  them  at  stated  internals  dur- 
ing the  day.  To  these  short  notes  were  attached,  and  borne  back 
by  the  swift,  home-seeking  wings,  being  the  last  words  to  many 
friends  until  the  cable  announced  Mr.  Beecher's  safe  arrival  at 
Queenstown  on  the  26th. 

Our  space  forbids  an  attempt  to  give  more  than  a  very  gene- 
ral account  of  this  visit ;  a  full  account  of  the  entire  trip  has 
already  been  published,  with  verbatim  reports  of  the  sermons  and 
lectures  delivered  by  Mr.  Beecher  in  England.* 

It  would  be  impossible  in  cold  words  to  express  the  deep  and 
tender  feelings  with  which  Mr.  Beecher  put  his  foot  again  on 
English  soil  after  an  absence  of  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century. 
Memory,  swift-flying,  ran  back  through   the   twenty-three  years 

*  "  A  Summer  in  England  with  Henry  Ward  Beecher."  By  J.  B.  Pond. 
Published  by  Fords,  Howard  &  Hulbert,  of  New  York  City. 


Mr.  and   Mrs.  Beecher  at  Time  of  Visit  to  England  in  1886. 
667 


668  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

past,  and  like  some  grand  panorama  the  impressive  events,  both 
national  and  personal,  moved  by  his  mind's  eyes  in  silent  pro- 
cession. 

Slavery,  that  blight  upon  America's  fair  name,  had  been  blot- 
ted out,  and  the  places  that  had  known  it,  knew  it  no  more  for  ever. 
The  struggle  for  national  existence,  which  had  been  hanging  al- 
most on  even  balance  when,  twenty-three  years  before,  he  had 
raised  his  voice  in  this  same  land,  and  pleaded  the  nation's  cause, 
had  ended  in  complete  victory  and  triumphant  vindication  of 
those  principles  for  which  he  had  contended.  It  was  with  no 
little  pride  that  he  was  able  to  stand  again  before  an  English  au- 
dience and  say  "  that  every  single  substantial  sentiment  that  was 
set  forth  in  those  several  popular  addresses  had  now  become 
history." 

Within  that  same  period  he  had  himself  passed  through 
the  flood  of  a  personal  persecution  which,  for  persistent  and 
malignant  intensity  and  unchristian  bitterness,  exceeded  any- 
thing recorded  in  the  annals  of  history.  He  had  seen  his  name, 
his  life-work,  all  that  he  had  lived  and  labored  for,  threatened 
with  black  destruction.  Through  this  he  had  passed,  emerging 
safely  upon  the  firm  shore  of  the  continued  love  and  confidence 
of  his  countrymen.  Nor  could  he  forget  the  assurances  of  fullest 
trust  that  came  to  him  from  public  utterances  and  private  letters 
of  the  many  friends  in  England  : 

"  For  no  other  nation  except  our  own  have  I  such  strong 
affinities  as  for  Great  Britain.  My  ancestors  came  from  there. 
I  have  been  bred  on  its  literature.  I  have  fed  on  the  thought 
and  feeling  of  its  heroic  men.  I  am  a  child,  though  born  away 
from  home,  of  the  English  people  ;  and  God  forbid  that  I  should 
be  indifferent  to  those  throes  which  are  to  bring  forth  the  man- 
child  yet  !  I  look  with  profound  sympathy,  with  the  feeling  of  a 
child  that  venerates  a  parent  in  distress,  upon  that  people  ;  and 
I  go  there  with  a  heart  as  warm  for  them  as  it  was  for  its  own 
country  in  the  day  of  its  division  and  trials.  Twenty-three  years 
— and  what  a  space  between  !  Twenty-three  years  !  Darkness, 
thunder,  tears,  blood,  and  war — they  have  gone,  and  the  white 
mantle  of  peace  is  spread  over  our  shores,  and  the  fields  laugh 
and  rejoice,  and  the  heavens  are  propitious,  and  the  earth  is 
bountiful,  and  men  are  growing  more  and  more  into  manliness. 
What  hath  God  wrought  !  " 


RBV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  669 

After  a  short  rest  in  Queenstown,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beecherwent 

direct  to  Liverpool  ;  there  on  the  28th  he  had  an  opportunity  to 
hear  Mr.  Gladstone,  meeting  him  after  the  address. 

The  next  day  they  proceeded  to  London,  where,  on  the  fol- 
lowing Sunday,  My.  Beecher  was  to  preach  for  Dr.  Parker  at 
the  City  Temple.  On  Thursday  he  attended  the  regular  week- 
day services  held  in  that  church  every  Thursday,  intending  to 
enjoy  the  unusual  pleasure  of  listening  to  somebody  else's 
preaching.  But  after  the  sermon  Dr.  Parker  insisted  upon  his 
addressing  the  meeting  and  closing  it  in  prayer.  On  calling  Mr. 
Beecher  to  the  pulpit,  the  doctor  spoke  a  few  words  in  tribute 
to  his  friend,  concluding  with  the  much-quoted  sentence  : 

"  My  brethren,  I  am  sorry  to  break  in  upon  a  man's  singu- 
larity, so  that  the  palm  may,  even  for  a  moment,  seem  to  be  di- 
vided between  two  ;  I  am,  however,  constrained  to  violate  the 
sanctity  of  a  definite  personality,  and  to  say  that  last  week  there 
was  in  England  a  Grand  Old  Man  :  to-day  there  are  two  of  them  !  " 

On  the  4th  he  preached  for  Dr.  Parker,  and  on  the  5th 
attended  a  dinner  given  to  him  by  the  lord  mayor  of  London. 
On  the  nth  he  preached  for  Dr.  Henry  Allen  in  London,  and  in 
the  afternoon  attended  the  service  at  Westminster  Abbey,  calling 
afterwards,  by  previous  invitation,  upon  Dean  Bradley,  with 
whom  were  present  a  number  of  the  clergymen  of  the  Church  of 
England,  who  had  been  invited  to  meet  him.  After  tea  the  dean 
invited  him  to  visit  the  various  historical  private  rooms  of  the 
Abbey. 

Many  of  the  rooms  were  quite  as  familiar  to  Mr.  Beecher, 
through  his  reading,  though  never  seen  before,  as  they  were  to 
the  clergy  of  the  church  itself.  These  listened  with  intense 
interest  to  his  familiar  exposition  and  discussion,  of  what  must 
have  seemed  to  them  to  be  their  own  peculiar  province  of  history. 

The  "Jerusalem  Chamber"  greatly  impressed  him.  "lam 
struck  with  awe.  No  room  has  greater  interest  to  me,  unless  it 
be  the  '  Upper  Room.'  " 

He  recalled  with  deep  interest  the  many  notable  events  that 
had  there  occurred  intimately  connected  with  religious  history — 
the  Westminster  Assembly,  the  Confession  of  Faith,  the  two 
revisions  of  the  Bible,  etc.  This  was  to  Mr.  Beecher  a  red- 
letter  day,  fuller  of  quiet,  tender  enjoyment,  probably,  than  any 
other  during  his  stay. 


67O  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

On  the  19th,  as  he  said,  his  play-day  being  over  (he  had 
preached  every  Sunday,  generally  twice,  and  delivered  addresses 
every  week),  his  work  began.  At  Exeter  Hall,  London,  where 
he  delivered  the  last  of  the  famous  speeches  in  1863,  he  delivered 
the  first  of  his  lectures  in  1886.  From  that  time  on  until  the 
21st  of  October  he  lectured,  on  an  average,  four  nights  a  week, 
preaching  every  Sunday.  A  letter  home  gives  some  humorous 
experiences  : 

" .  .  .  .  You  would  be  amused  at  the  way  of  public  meetings 
in  England  and  Scotland.  After  the  lecture  the  chairman  calls 
on  some  one,  previously  agreed  upon,  to  move  a  vote  of  thanks> 
which  he  does,  with  a  speech  in  which  he  pours  out  such  a  flood 
of  compliments  that  before  he  is  half  through  you  lose  all  sense 
of  personal  identity,  and  wonder  what  heroic  personage  he  is 
talking  about,  and  then  he  moves  the  distinguished  gentleman  a 
vote  of  thanks.  Thereupon  the  chairman  informs  the  audience 
that  Reverend  or  Professor  So-and-so  will  second  the  motion. 
He  takes  up  the  thread  of  eulogy  where  the  other  bit  it  off,  and 
winds  you  up  with  golden  cords  until  you  swing  high  in  the 
heavens.  Thereupon  the  vote  is  put  by  the  chairman,  the  audi- 
ence raise  their  hands,  and  then  fall  into  a  perfect  tempest  of  clap- 
ping ;  as  this  subsides,  you  are  expected  to  rise  and,  with  modest 
self-depreciation,  to  explain  how  much  you  are  elated  and  how 
grateful  you  are.  .  .  .  But  it  is  after  the  assembly  is  dismissed  that 
the  most  serious  business  of  the  evening  begins.  All  on  the  plat- 
form shake  hands  ;  women  climb  up  and  shake  you  ;  at  every  step 
downward  a  host  of  hands — men,  women,  girls,  and  boys  are 
reaching  ;  the  hallway  is  crowded  with  men  that  pull  you,  shake 
you,  hustle  you  ;  the  outward  passage  is  lined  with  scores  and 
scores,  and  finally,  on  the  sidewalk,  the  rush  to  get  your  hand  is 
fearful,  and  the  police  have  to  crowd  them  back  to  get  you  into 
the  carriage,  and  then  the  windows  bristle  with  more  hands, 
and  as  the  carriage  moves  on  the  crowd  run  along  by  its  side 
still  fiercely  pushing  each  other  to  get  a  chance  to  shake. 

"  A  ludicrous  event  happened  at  York.  Just  away  from  the 
hall  is  a  bridge,  for  which  foot-passengers  pay  a  cent  and  car- 
riages two  cents.  A  woman  or  girl  stands  out  on  the  sidewalk, 
extending  her  hand  for  the  fee.  After  I  had  shaken  hands  at 
the  hall,  along  the  street,  with  scores,  we  came  to  the  bridge, 
hardly  yet   shaking  off   the  crowd.      A   hand  was   thrust    into 


REV,  EFENXY  WARD  BEECHER.  67 1 

the  window,  which  I  shook  ;  the  woman  said  something  indis- 
tinctly, which  I  afterwards  learned  was,  '  A  penny,  sir.'  Thinking 
it  some  affectionate  blessing,  I  took  her  hand  again,  and  gave 
it  a  more  emphatic  shake.  She  put  her  face  in  the  window  and 
said,  'A  penny,  sir';  Pond  meanwhile  sitting  by  and  laughing 
heartily. 

u  Your  mother,  too,  frequently  comes  in  for  her  share,  and 
you  can  imagine  how  comical  she  looks  as,  with  a  modest  smile 
and  some  surprise,  she  deals  out  her  '  thank  you's '  to  the  host  of 
admirers." 

From  July  4,  when  he  preached  first  for  Dr.  Parker,  un- 
til his  departure,  October  24,  Mr.  Beecher  preached  seventeen 
times,  delivered  nine  public  addresses  and  fifty-eight  lectures. 
This  was  his  summer  vacation.  From  this  period  of  restful 
recreation,  such  was  his  peculiar  capacity  and  enjoyment  of  men- 
tal activity,  he  derived  great  benefit ;  and  on  his  return  home, 
after  a  few  days'  rest  from  the  disturbing  influences  of  the,  to 
him,  ever-unrestful  ocean,  he  declared  that  he  never  felt  stronger, 
or  more  vigorous,  or  better  equipped  for  work  in  his  life.  In  the 
course  of  his  stay  he  visited  and  lectured  in  each  of  the  cities, 
and  generally  in  the  same  hall  where  he  had  "  fought  with  the 
wild  beasts  of  Ephesus,"  as  he  used  to  say,  in  1863. 

Just  before  his  departure  he  addressed  one  meeting  which,  on 
account  of  its  peculiar  significance,  we  must  mention  more  fully 
ere  we  pass  on.  So  much  has  been  said  of  late  in  certain  quar- 
ters respecting  Mr.  Beecher's  theology,  so  many  criticisms  upon 
his  orthodoxy,  that  his  standing  among  so  conservative  a  body  as 
the  English  clergy  may  not  be  uninteresting.  He  had  already 
addressed  the  London  Congregational  Board,  the  Congregational 
School  (for  the  sons  of  Congregational  clergymen),  and  had 
preached  nearly  twenty  times,  so  that  there  had  been  a  tolera- 
bly fair  opportunity  to  learn  something  of  his  religious  views, 
when  he  was  invited  to  address  the  theological  students  on  the 
subject  of  preaching. 

The  meeting  was  held  in  the  City  Temple,  October  15.  Six 
hundred  students  attended,  the  remaining  space  in  the  body  of 
the  house  being  occupied  by  ministers,  who  came  from  all  parts 
of  the  country  to  attend  this  meeting.  It  was  understood  that 
Mr.  Beecher  would,  after  the  address,  answer  such  questions  as 
any  might  want  to  ask.     As  the  hour  fixed  was  eleven  o'clock  in 


672  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

the  forenoon,  all  of  the  theological  schools  had  to  rearrange  their 
school-hours  for  that  day,  in  order  to  allow  the  scholars  a  chance 
to  attend.  This  was  done  with  great  readiness.  After  an  ad- 
dress of  nearly  an  hour,  he  offered  to  receive  such  questions, 
pertinent  to  the  topic  discussed,  as  might  be  put  by  the  scholars 
or  any  of  the  clergy  present,  and  occupied  the  remainder  of  his 
time  in  answering  them. 

On  the  24th  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beecher  boarded  the  Etruria  at 
Queenstown  for  their  return  home,  reaching  New  York  on 
the  31st. 

In  accordance  with  his  expressed  wishes  no  attempts  were 
made  to  "  receive  "  him,  but  he  was  allowed  to  go  quietly  home 
and  rest,  his  people  reserving  their  welcome  until  the  following 
Sunday.*  On  that  day  the  church  was  decorated  with  flowers 
and  evergreen  vines,  the  pulpit  being  literally  a  bank  of  flowers, 
which  ran  up  along  the  face  of  the   great  organ,   even  to  the 

*The  Common  Council  of  Brooklyn  voted  him  a  public  reception,, 
which  he  declined.     The  resolutions  were  as  follows  : 

"  In  Common  Council,  Stated  Session, 
Monday,  Nov.  8,  1886. 
"The  following  was  presented  : 

11  Whereas,  This  Common  Council  has  heard  with  pleasure  of  the  re- 
turn from  abroad  of  that  distinguished  American,  our  fellow-citizen,  the 
Rev,  Henry  Ward  Beecher ;  and 

"  Whereas,  In  recognition  of  the  eminent  services  rendered  to  his 
country  and  mankind,  both  here  and  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  of 
the  broad  and  generous  nature  of  his  manhood  and  of  his  genius,  which 
has  already  shed  its  lustre  for  half  a  century  ;  therefore  be  it 

"  Resolved,  That  his  Honor  the  Mayor  be,  and  he  is  hereby  requested 
to  offer  to  the  Reverend  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  on  behalf  of  the  Mayor, 
Aldermen,  and  Commonalty  of  the  City  of  Brooklyn,  a  public  reception 
at  the  Academy  of  Music,  at  such  time  as  may  suit  his  convenience. 

"Resolved,  That  a  committee  of  five  members  be  appointed  by  the 
chair,  who,  together  with  his  Honor  the  Mayor,  of  which  committee  he 
shall  be  chairman,  shall  make  the  necessary  arrangements  for  such  recep- 
tion, and  to  insure  an  adequate  expression  on  that  occasion  of  the  honor 
and  esteem  in  which  the  citizens  of  Brooklyn,  without  distinction  of  party 
or  creed,  hold  this  their  distinguished  and  beloved  fellow-citizen. 

"  The  resolutions  were  unanimously  adopted  by  the  following  vote  :" 

(Signed  by  the  Mayor  and  Common  Council). 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  673 

ceiling.     Alter  the  service  his  people  thronged  around  the  pulpit- 
stairs  for  one  shake  of  the  hand  and  one  word  of  welcome. 

Early  in  the  winter  he  began  to  seriously  think  of  completing 
the  second  volume  of  the  "  Life  of  Christ."  Friends  and  mem- 
bers of  his  family  had  for  some  years  been  urging  that  the  book 
should  be  completed.  A  fatality  seemed  to  have  hung  over  that 
book. 

At  the  time  when  the  Tilton  conspiracy  first  broke  out  he 
had  written  a  considerable  part  of  Volume  II.,  and  undoubtedly 
would  have  soon  finished  it,  when  that  outbreak,  with  the  church 
persecutions  that  followed,  interrupted  the  work,  and  for  a  num- 
ber of  years  kept  his  mind  so  engrossed  in  other  matters  as  to 
make  writing  an  impossibility.  This  was  followed  by  the  busi- 
ness embarrassments  of  his  publishers,  and  then  the  care  of  re- 
organizing the  Christian  Union.  At  last,  peace  and  quiet  having 
been  restored,  he  began  again  to  arrange  for  the  completion  of 
the  work,  when  a  vexatious  suit  was  brought  against  him  by 
Samuel  Wilkeson,  who  had  bought  the  original  contract  for  the 
book  from  the  publishers  at  an  assignee's  sale,  and,  claiming  that 
Mr.  Beecher  had  broken  his  contract,  sued  for  $60,000.  The 
pendency  of  this  suit  stopped  all  further  work  on  the  book. 
After  some  delay  the  cause  was  tried  and  the  complaint  promptly 
dismissed  by  the  court. 

Twice,  after  the  suit,  an  attempt  was  made  by  Mr.  Beecher  to 
accomplish  the  long-deferred  completion  of  the  book,  but  on 
each  occasion  something  occurred  to  interrupt  and  further  defer 
the  work. 

Finally,  in  January,  1887,  he  determined  to  complete  the  book, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  write  his  Autobiography.  No  small 
part  of  the  credit  for  this  final  determination  is  due  to  Major 
J.  B.  Pond,  who  for  many  years  past  had  been  Mr.  Beecher's 
lecture  manager,  and  who  joined  with  Mr.  Beecher's  family  in 
urging  the  undertaking  of  both  works.  Finally  it  was  decided 
that  he  would  deliver  no  more  lectures  during  the  year  1887, 
but  devote  all  of  his  time  outside  of  his  church  duties  to  these 
literary  labors. 

In  February  a  contract  was  made  with  Charles  L.  Webster  & 
Co.,  of  New  York — our  present  publishers — to  publish  both  books. 
The  "Life  of  Christ"  was  to  be  completed  before  July  1,  1887, 
and  the  Autobiography  before  July  1,  1888. 


674  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

With  great  zeal  Mr.  Beecher  began  at  once  to  re-read,  revise, 
and  complete  the  "  Life  of  Christ,"  sometimes  resting  his  mind 
by  changing  his  work  and  writing  a  little  on  his  Autobiography. 
In  this  way,  by  March  i,  he  had  revised  all  of  his  former  manu- 
script of  the  "  Life  of  Christ,"  and  had  completed  it  down  to 
chapter  xxv.  Eight  chapters  of  Volume  II.  were  completed  in 
this  manner,  and  the  outlines  of  the  remaining  three,  within 
which  space  he  intended  to  complete  the  work,  were  clearly 
blocked  out  in  his  own  mind.  As  he  got  more  and  more  back 
into  the  long-interrupted  current  of  thought,  his  interest  deep- 
ened, and  with  increased  interest  came  greater  mental  ease. 

Several  times  he  remarked  that  he  had  never  seen  the  subject 
so  clearly  and  luminously  in  his  mind  before.  It  seemed  at 
times  as  though  Christ's  life  were  revealed  to  him  with  a  clearness 
and  a  nearness  that  had  never  before  been  given  him.  In  one  of 
his  exalted  moods  he  burst  out  :  "  Twenty  men  could  not  in  a 
life-time  write  all  I  now  see  ;  how  can  I  put  it  into  one  book  ?  " 

But  a  few  days  before  his  last  sickness  an  English  clergyman 
called  to  see  him,  and  after  a  pleasant  chat,  as  he  rose  to  leave, 
asked  if  there  was  any  prospect  of  his  completing  the  "  Life  of 
Christ."  Mr.  Beecher  replied  that  he  was  at  work  on  it  then, 
and  would  probably  finish  it  in  two  or  three  months.  The 
clergyman  was  greatly  delighted,  saying  that  he  had  been 
long  waiting,  hoping  for  the  second  volume.  As  the  visitor  left, 
Mr.  Beecher,  kneeling  in  his  great  arm-chair,  as  was  often  his 
wont  when  in  a  reverie,  with  one  elbow  on  the  chair-back,  and 
chin  resting  in  his  open  palm,  gazed  in  silent  abstraction  out  of 
the  window  facing  him.  Suddenly,  his  face  lighting  up,  he  ex- 
claimed, as  though  thinking  aloud :  "  Finish  the  Life  of  Christ  ! 
Finish  the  Life  of  Christ  !  Who  can  finish  the  Life  of  Christ  ! 
It  cannot  be  finished." 

Prophetic  words  !  Almost  within  the  week  he  was  called  to 
that  closer  communion  with  his  Saviour,  and  entered  into  that 
lasting  peace  for  which  he  had  so  often  longed. 

During  the  day  of  Thursday,  March  3,  he  was  in  the  best  of 
spirits  and  apparently  perfect  health.  He  had  repeatedly  stated 
since  his  return  from  England  that  he  had  never  felt  better,  or 
better  able  to  work.  We  had  often  during  the  past  month  jok- 
ingly called  him  the  youngest  boy  in  the  house.  None  of  us 
dreamed  that  Thursday  was  to  end  his  long  career  of  usefulness. 


REV,  HENRY  WARD  BEBCHER.  675 

During  the  night  he  awoke,  complaining  of  nausea,  and  was 
taken  with  vomiting,  but  soon  tell  asleep  again.  Friday  morning 
he  did  not  get  up  ;  though  he  roused  when  spoken  to,  he  would 
immediately  after  fall  asleep  again.  These  symptoms  disturbed 
no  one,  as  they  were  quite  common  whenever  he  had  any  bilious 
trouble.  The  family  thought  that  something  he  ate  for  supper 
had  disagreed  with  him,  and  that  he  was  working  it  off  in  his 
usual  way,  by  sleeping  and  lying  quiet. 

Friday  afternoon  the  doctor  was  for  the  first  time  called  in. 
He  thought,  with  the  family,  that  the  trouble  was  with  the 
stomach,  though  some  symptoms  made  him  think  that  perhaps 
there  might  be  some  other  complicating  causes  than  mere  bilious- 
ness. 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  one  of  his  sons  called  in,  he  roused, 
himself  quite  fully,  called  for  toast,  complained  that  his  feet1 
were  cold,  and  that  his  head  ached  some.  When  asked  what 
was  the  matter,  he  replied,  jokingly,  in  a  sort  of  half-sleepy 
manner  : 

"  I  had  a  dream  last  night.  I  thought  that  I  was  a  duke  and 
your  mother  a  duchess,  and  I  was  trying  to  figure  the  interest  on 
a  hundred  thousand  pounds  a  year — you  know  I  never  was  good 
at  mathematics.  It  gave  me  a  headache ;  but  I'll  have  your 
mother  boil  a  page  of  arithmetic  and  make  a  tea  of  it.  I'll  cure 
it  homceopathically." 

He  was  then  helped  to  sit  up  in  bed  and  eat  his  toast,  which 
he  did  with  eyes  still  closed,  as  though  half-asleep.  When  laid 
back  upon  his  pillow  he  fell  asleep  at  once. 

Saturday  morning  the  dreadful  truth  first  became  apparent. 
Dr.  Searle  found  that  the  left  side  showed  unmistakable  signs  of 
paralysis,  and  then,  recalling  the  previous  symptoms,  which  had 
been  attributed  to  other  causes,  said  at  once  that  it  was  apoplexy 
and  that  there  was  nothing  to  hope  for.  At  first  none  would 
believe  the  diagnosis.  Up  to  that  moment  all  had  thought  the 
illness  nothing  that  need  cause  any  apprehension,  when  with  the 
suddenness  of  a  lightning-stroke  came  the  announcement  of  utter 
hopelessness. 

That  no  chance  should  be  overlooked,  Drs.  Hammond  and 
Helmuth,  of  New  York,  were  called  in  consultation  during  the 
day,  and  confirmed  the  hopeless  diagnosis.  Nothing  could  be 
done — nothing   but  wait.      The    patient    did  not  suffer  ;    only 


676  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

those  who  stood  about  his  bed,  watching  the  beloved  face,  suf- 
fered. 

Several  times  during  Saturday  afternoon,  in  response  to  loud 
questions  put  by  the  doctors,  he  roused  enough  to  comprehend 
the  questions  and  briefly  answer  them.  With  each  attempt  his 
articulation  became  more  difficult. 

After  the  consultations  were  over  he  never  spoke  again.  His 
unconscious  sleep  became  deeper  and  more  profound  through 
Sunday  and  Monday,  until  Tuesday  morning,  at  twenty  minutes 
to  ten,  his  breath  grew  fainter — then  stopped.  The  end  he  had 
hoped  for  was  his.  As  warriors  of  old  prayed  that  they  might 
die  in  full  armor,  not  a  piece  wanting  or  rusted  from  disuse,  in 
the  full  activity  of  the  fight,  so  he  prayed  that  he  might  be 
spared  the  slow  wasting  of  disease  or  the  impairment  of  his 
physical  and  mental  powers. 

No  black,  no  mourning  drapery  of  any  kind,  was  permitted 
about  the  house  or  on  his  coffin.  At  the  door  hung  a  beautiful 
wreath  of  delicate  pink  and  white  roses,  gathered  at  the  top  by 
a  large  white  satin  bow,  renewed  afresh  each  morning  by  the 
hands  of  a  beloved  friend. 

Against  every  form  of  mourning  he  had  always  revolted  ;  to 
him  death  was  but  the  gate  to  heaven,  and  the  black  symbols  of 
ancient  paganism  he  could  not' endure  : 

"  The  scholastic  theology,  filled  with  gloomy  ideas  sifted 
through  stern  Romish  minds  from  teachings  of  pagan  Romans 
has  come  down  to  us,  until  the  representations  of  death  that 
exist  in  the  literature  of  Rome  are  more  abominable  and  cruel 
than  all  the  vices  of  all  the  Neros,  or  any  other  of  the  corrupt 
emperors.  The  scholastic  conceptions  of  dying  and  of  death  are 
unworthy  of  reason,  unworthy  of  conscience,  and  are  blasphemous 
to  God  and  to  His  government.  They  have  no  foundation  in  the 
New  Testament,  none  certainly  in  the  Old,  and  they  ought  to  be 
purged  out  of  our  imaginations.  Yet  it  lingers  with  us,  and  when 
death  has  come  the  household  has  not  one  note  of  triumph,  not 
one  star  shines  through  the  grief,  nor  one  door  of  flashing  light 
is  opened.  We  cover  the  pictures,  we  shut  up  the  instru- 
ments of  music,  we  close  the  windows  and  shut  out  the  light ; 
we  have  a  black  hearse  with  plumes  plucked  from  the  wings  of 
midnight,  and  we  send  for  our  minister,  who  doles  out  lugubri- 
ous, mournful  themes,  and  we  sing  awful  hymns.     And  then  be- 


REV.  HENRY  WARP  BEECHER*  677 

cause  one's  child  has  gained  the  coronation  of  glory,  and  is  in  the 
arms  of  Jesus,  and  rests  from  all  labor  and  trial  and  temptation, 
we  put  on  black — black  over  the  head,  black  around  the  neck, 
black  down  to  the  feet,  black  inside  !  We  carry  the  habiliments 
of  woe  and  darkness  and  gloom,  and  think  that  we  can  see  death 
everywhere.  No  other  thing  is  as  this.  The  one  thing  that  men 
carry  everywhere  with  them,  and  they  are  bound  to  share  alike 
with  brothers,  strangers,  friends,  is  that  one  thing  that  is  bor- 
rowed from  the  despotism  and  cruelty  of  heathenism.  Not  one 
joy,  not  one  thanksgiving,  not  one  gleam  of  faith  and  hope,  not 
one  promise  of  Jesus  Christ,  not  one  single  second  of  immortal- 
ity and  glory,  is  permitted  to  cheer  the  soul.  All  is  night,  black 
night,  hopeless  night.  Sinful,  the  whole  of  it,  unchristian,  un- 
grateful !  .  .   . 

"  One  of  the  most  beautiful  things  I  ever  saw  in  my  whole 
European  tour  was  the  burial  place  of  a  Prussian  queen  who 
died  during  the  great  struggle  against  Napoleon,  when  the  nation 
was  ground  almost  to  extinction,  leaving  her  kingly  husband  al- 
most inconsolable.  At  some  distance  from  the  capital,  and  in 
the  midst  of  the  solemn  wood,  he  built  a  temple  to  her  memory. 
It  was  of  marble.  As  I  entered,  the  light  shone  down  through 
blue  glass,  casting  a  sad,  sorrowful  tone  on  all  that  its  rays  shone 
upon.  But  further  on,  upon  entering  the  inner  chamber,  the 
cheerful  light  of  God's  sun  streamed  in  through  the  numerous 
windows  and  illuminated  the  ceiling,  which  was  covered  with 
glowing  Scripture  passages  of  death  and  immortality.  And  there 
in  that  blessed  sunlight  lay  the  sculptured  form  of  the  queen, 
forming  the  most  perfect  embodiment  of  rest,  and  peace,  and 
triumph  that  my  eyes  ever  beheld.  There  was  nothing,  sad  or 
sorrowful,  or  painful  to  be  seen  ;  only  the  light  of  the  glory  of 
God  as  set  forth  in  the  sun  ;  and  the  whole  room  glowed  with 
cheer  and  brightness,  and  the  monument  was  not  gloomy  but 
peaceful.  I  bless  God  with  all  my  heart  for  that  sight  ;  it 
has  been  a  comfort  to  me  in  many  a  dark  day  and  long  strug- 
gle of  suffering,  for  already  have  I  seen  the  triumph  of  death, 
the  sweetness  and  the  peace  of  victory,  in  that  monumental 
marble." 

On  Thursday  a  private  funeral  service  was  held  at  the  house, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Charles  H.  Hall,  of  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Trin- 
ity,  officiating,  in  accordance   with    the  expressed  wish  of  Mr. 


678  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

Beecher.  Between  the  two  a  deep  and  lasting  friendship  had 
existed.  In  the  dark  days,  when  not  a  few  of  the  clerical  breth- 
ren of  his  own  denomination  in  Brooklyn  doubted,  or,  hesitating, 
held  back  awaiting  the  result,  Dr.  Hall,  in  a  manner  characteris- 
tic of  his  brave  and  manly  nature,  went  out  of  his  way  to  show,  in 
public,  his  confidence  and  love  for  Mr.  Beecher.  The  latter  at- 
tending service  one  day,  during  the  time  when  the  clouds  hung 
heaviest,  at  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  the  doctor,  seeing 
him  in  the  congregation,  descended  into  the  aisle,  and,  taking  his 
friend  by  the  hand,  led  him  to  a  seat  within  the  chancel.  Mr. 
Beecher,  always  forgetful  of  injuries,  never  forgot  an  act  of 
friendship.  It  was  his  oft-repeated  wish  that,  should  he  be  called 
first,  the  voice  of  this  brave,  beloved  friend  might  speak  the 
words  of  cheer  and  comfort  to  those  he  left  behind. 

At  the  close  of  the  service,  Company  G,  of  theThirteenth  Regi- 
ment— which,  having  been  largely  recruited  from  the  young  men 
of  Plymouth  Church,  was  called  the  "  Plymouth  Company,"  and 
affectionately  styled  by  Mr.  Beecher  "My  boys" — with  arms 
reversed,  banners  furled,  and  muffled  drums,  marched  to  the 
house,  and,  as  a  guard  of  honor,  escorted  the  body  of  their  pas- 
tor, chaplain,  and  friend  to  the  church,  as  he  was  borne  for 
the  last  time  within  its  doors,  and  laid  him,  silent  for  the  first 
time,  at  the  foot  of  that  pulpit  from  which  his  voice,  during  well- 
nigh  forty  years,  had  so  often  rung  out  to  right  the  wrong,  to  lift 
up  the  down-trodden,  to  uphold  the  weak,  to  elevate  mankind ; 
that  had  so  often  preached  comfort  to  the  sorrowing,  light  to  those 
in  great  darkness,  pointing  out  the  way  of  life  to  struggling  sin- 
ners, and  revealing  that  boundless  love  of  God  which  was  the 
keynote  of  his  theology. 

Till  Saturday  morning  an  almost  continuous  stream  passed 
through  the  church  to  look  in  a  last  farewell  upon  the  face  of  a 
friend,  scarcely  ending  with  midnight,  renewed  again  by  day- 
light, all  day  long.  Old  men  and  children,  rich  and  poor,  met  to 
mourn  a  common  loss. 

He  rested  in  a  bed  of  flowers,  the  coffin  hidden  from  sight  by 
twining  smilax,  covered  with  white  pinks  and  rosebuds  ;  pulpit 
and  organ  buried  in  flowering  shrubs  and  graceful  plants,  deco- 
rated with  many  floral  designs. 

On  Friday  morning  the  public  funeral  service  was  held,  Dr. 
Hall  preaching  the  sermon. 


Lying  in   State  in   Plymouth   Church. 


679 


68o  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

Simultaneous  with  the  services  at  Plymouth,  funeral  services 
were  held  in  the  three  nearest  adjoining  churches. 

On  the  proclamation  of  the  mayor,  business  was  suspended 
during  the  day  ;  the  Legislature  adjourned,  sending  a  special 
committee  to  attend  as  its  representatives  at  the  funeral. 

On  Sunday  a  memorial  service  was  held  in  Plymouth  Church, 
in  which  the  representatives  of  every  creed  took  part — Jew  and 
Gentile,  Catholic  and  Protestant — and  nearly  every  denomination 
of  Protestantism  vying  each  with  another  in  paying  tributes  of 
respect,  gratitude,  and  love  to  their  common  brother — a  most  fit, 
practical  example  of  that  for  which  he  had  always  preached,  the 
universal  brotherhood  in  God. 

On  Saturday,  the  12th,  the  body  was  taken  quietly  to  Green- 
wood. 

"  To-day  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  body  was  buried  in  Green- 
wood. His  hearse  was  followed  in  sympathy  and  honor  by  mil- 
lions of  his  countrymen.  The  mourners  were  of  all  kindred  and 
of  every  language.  Not  in  this  generation,  at  least,  has  there 
been  a  funeral  so  nobly  significant.  In  the  stately  procession 
walked  the  viewless  forms  of  principles,  of  governments,  of  na- 
tions, and  of  races.  The  guardian  spirit  of  the  slave  whom  he 
helped  to  liberate  ;  the  fair,  sad  genius  of  the  Green  Isle,  for 
which  he  so  often  and  so  eloquently  pleaded  ;  the  dusky  repre- 
sentative of  the  Chinese  Empire,  in  behalf  of  whose  sons  he  again 
and  again  demanded  justice ;  the  fair  form  of  modern  science 
with  the  radiance  of  the  morning  sun  on  her  queenly  brow  ;  the 
benign  angel  of  charity,  clothed  in  the  whiteness  of  that  purity 
which  renders  sin  invisible  ;  democracy,  with  her  free  step,  flow- 
ing hair,  and  cap  of  many  hues  ;  Columbia,  full  of  matronly  grace 
and  benignant  as  the  atmosphere  of  June  ;  and  Christianity, 
calm,  motherly,  and  forgiving — these  are  the  pall-bearers  by 
whom  the  body  of  our  hero  was  borne  to  its  resting-place.  .  .  ."* 

On  a  sunny  slope  in  that  most  beautiful  of  all  cemeteries, 
overlooking  the  Bay  of  New  York,  is  the  grave  of  Henry  Ward 
Beecher.  But  it  is  only  the  grave  :  "  When  I  fall,  and  am  buried 
in  Greenwood,  let  no  man  dare  to  stand  over  the  turf  and  say, 
'  Here  lies  Henry  Ward  Beecher,'  for  God  knows  that  I  will  not 
lie  there.     Look  up  ;  if  you  love  me,  and  if  you  feel  that  I  have 

*  From  the  Brooklyn  Citizen  of  March  12. 


REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECIIKR.  68  I 

helped  you  on  your  way  home,  stand  with  ymir  feet  on  my  turf 
and  look  up  ;  for  I  will  not  hear  anybody  that  does  not  speak 
with  his  mouth  toward  heaven." 

With  all  our  sorrow  we  cannot  begrudge  him  the  rest  and 
peace  so  well  earned,  nor  that  for  which  he  had  so  often  prayed 
— a  quiet,  painless  departure  while  yet  each  faculty  was  unim- 
paired. He  remembered  with  deepest  pain  the  failing  years  of 
his  own  father,  who  lingered  till  all  his  faculties  became  impaired: 

"  My  venerable  father,  who  was  a  second  David  in  his  time — a 
man  of  war — and  yet  who  had  as  sweet  a  heart  as  ever  an  angel 
woman  had,  lived  through  many  last  years  of  weakness  and  ob- 
scuration, and  I  had  to  remember  a  great  way  back  to  find  my 
father.     It  was  very  pitiful,  very  painful. 

"  That  is  one  reason  why  I  do  not  want  to  be  an  old  man.  I 
hope  God  will  have  so  much  consideration  for  my  weakness — if 
it  be  a  weakness — as  to  let  me  drop  down  in  my  harness  and  in 
the  full  energy  of  work.  I  have  no  fear  whatever  of  dying :  it 
is  only  the  fear  of  living  that  I  have  before  my  eyes.  .  .  . 

"  Some  persons  talk  about  a  man  having  passed  through  a 
stormy  life,  and  sitting  now  at  the  end  of  his  life  in  quiet,  prepar- 
ing himself  for  heaven.  Heaven  does  not  want  any  such  prepara- 
tion as  that.  That  is  the  best  preparation  which  a  man  makes 
when  he  is  using  the  whole  force  of  his  being  in  his  day  and 
time.  I  would  rather  die  with  the  harness  on  and  be  dragged 
out  by  the  heels.  I  would  like  to  fall  in  the  traces.  You  cannot 
help  scoring  one  year  against  yourself  and  growing  old  in  one 
way  ;  but  it  is  the  outward  man  that  is  growing  old.  The  wine 
that  is  in  you  ought  to  be  growing  better  and  better  every  year. 
Time  should  mellow  and  ripen  it.  True,  if  a  man's  power  is 
dried  up,  he  cannot  do  more  than  he  has  strength  for  ;  but  every 
man  should  do  up  to  the  measure  of  his  strength,  and  not  forget 
the  sudden  appearing  of  God  in  his  own  day  and  in  his  own 
time. 

"I  love  those  streams  that  run  full,  clear  to  the  ocean.  Some 
men  there  are  who  are  like  mountain  streams,  torrent-fed,  that 
boom  in  the  spring,  with  wondrous  glory  of  fulness  and  power, 
and  go  rushing  through  the  earlier  months,  but  slacken  their 
speed,  and  by  midsummer  are  only  a  trickling  reminiscence  of 
the  river.  I  like  to  think  of  streams  like  the  old  Merrimac,  that 
begin  work  up  near  their  head-waters,  and  never  run  a  league 


682  BIOGRAPHY  OF 

without  turning  some  mighty  wheel  of  industry,  and  have  no  va- 
cation to  the  end,  but  go  into  the  sea  with  the  very  foam  on  their 
surface." 

For  him  death  had  no  terrors  ;  it  was  the  gate  opening  into 
eternal  rest  and  peace — that  peace  for  which  he  had  so  often 
yearned  and  longed  in  his  later  years.  Death  was  the  wel- 
come friend,  not  the  dreaded  foe. 

"  Is  there  anything  sweeter  to  grief  and  sorrow  than  that 
passage  where  the  New  Testament,  sweet  book  of  the  soul, 
speaks  of  dying  ?  Let  Tuscanized  Romans  talk  of  death ;  let 
heathen  mythologies  come  to  us  with  skulls,  and  cross-bones, 
and  hideous  images  of  dying,  of  the  monster  Death,  of  the 
tyrant  Death,  of  the  scythe-armed  Death,  of  a  grim  and  terrible 
fate ;  but  what  terror  can  any  of  these  representations  have  for 
us  when  we  have  for  our  encouragement  and  hope  the  promises 
of  the  New  Testament  ? 

"  On  a  summer's  day  the  gentle  western  wind  brings  in  all  the 
sweets  of  the  field  and  the  garden  ;  and  the  child,  overtasked  by 
joy,  comes  back  weary,  and  climbs  for  sport  into  the  mother's 
lap  ;  and  before  he  can  sport  he  feels  the  balm  of  rest  stealing 
over  him,  and  lays  his  curly  head  back  upon  her  arm  ;  and  look  I 
he  goes  to  sleep  ;  hush  !  he  has  gone  to  sleep,  and  all  the  chil- 
dren stand  smiling.  How  beautiful  it  is  to  see  a  child  drop 
asleep  on  its  mother's  arm  !  And  it  is  said,  '  He  fell  asleep  in 
Jesus.'  Is  there  anything  so  high,  so  noble,  or  divine,  as  the 
way  in  which  the  New  Testament  speaks  of  dying  ?  How  near 
death  is,  and  how  beautiful ! 

"  If  you  have  lost  companions,  children,  friends,  you  have 
not  lost  them.  They  followed  the  Pilot.  They  went  through 
airy  channels,  unknown  and  unsearchable,  and  they  are  with  the 
Lord  ;  and  you  are  going  to  be  with  Him,  too.  I  die  to  go,  not 
to  Jerusalem,  but  to  the  New  Jerusalem.  I  die,  not  to  wait  in 
the  rock-ribbed  sepulchre,  which  shall  hold  me  sure  ;  I  die,  that 
when  this  body  is  dropped  I  shall  have  a  place,  in  the  inward 
fulness  of  my  spiritual  power,  with  the  Lord. 

"  Then  welcome  gray  hairs  !  they  come  as  white  banners  that 
wave  from  the  other  and  higher  life.  Welcome  infirmities  !  they 
are  but  the  loosening  of  the  cords  preparatory  to  taking  down 
the  tabernacle.  Welcome  troubles  !  they  are  but  the  signs  that 
we  are  crossing  the  sea,  and  that  not  far  away  is  our  home — that 


REV,     HE. \ K  Y    WARD   BEECH  EK. 
house  oi    our    Father    LI)    which  arc  many  mansions,  ulnar  dwells 

[esus,  the  loved   and  all-loving.     And  let  us  rejoice  that  Eie  lias 

gone  from  the  body,  that  He  may  be  ever  present  in  the  spirit, 
and  that  ere  long  we  may  be  with  Mini." 

His  life  had  been  full  and  complete.  Unconsciously,  in 
words  of  matchless  beauty,  he  painted  his  own  picture  when  he 
said  : 

11  And  the  most  beautiful  thing  that  lives  on  this  earth  is  not 
the  child  in  the  cradle,  sweet  as  it  is.  It  is  not  ample  enough. 
It  has  not  had  history  enough.  It  is  all  prophecy.  Let  me  see 
one  who  has  wrought  through  life  ;  let  me  see  a  great  nature 
that  has  gone  through  sorrows,  through  fire,  through  the  flood, 
through  the  thunder  of  battle,  ripening,  sweetening,  enlarging, 
and  growing  finer  and  finer,  and  gentler  and  gentler,  that  fineness 
and  gentleness  being  the  result  of  great  strength  and  great  know- 
ledge accumulated  through  a  long  life — let  me  see  such  a  one 
stand  at  the  end  of  life,  as  the  sun  stands  on  a  summer  afternoon 
just  before  it  goes  down.  Is  there  anything  on  earth  so  beautiful 
as  a  rich,  ripe,  large,  glowing,  and  glorious  Christian  heart  ?  No, 
nothing." 


APPENDIX 


68S 


APPENDIX. 


Mr.  Beecher's  trial  lecture  was  the  first  sermon  which  he  preached 
as  a  clergyman.  It  may  be  interesting,  both  from  that  fact  and  because,  as 
Mr.  Beecher  himself  once  remarked,  it  shows  how  commonplace  a  sermon  a 
man  might  write  who  subsequently  attained  to  some  eminence  as  a  preacher. 

Trial  Lecture. 

For  as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow  from  heaven,  and  retutneth  not 
thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  and  maketh  it  bring  forth  and  bad,  that  it  may 
give  seed  to  the  sower,  and  bread  to  the  eater  :  so  shall  my  word  be  that  goeth 
forth  out  of  my  mouth;  it  shall  not  return  unto  me  void,  but  it  shall  accomplish 
that  which  I  please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it. — Isaiah 
lv.  io,  II. 

Xo  one  can  read  the  Bible,  even  superficially,  without  observing  how 
much  it  brings  in  the  natural  world  to  illustrate  the  truths  of  the  moral. 
Of  the  truths  of  God's  government  or  of  his  own  Being  it  may  be  said 
"  the  invisible  things  of  Him  from  the  creation  of  the  world  are  clearly 
seen,  being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made."  The  passage  assigned 
as  the  subject  of  this  lecture  is  remarkable  in  this  respect,  since  two  depart- 
ments are  compared — the  truth  of  God  is  compared  with  the  elements. 

It  will  be  particularly  noticed  here  that  no  formal  analogy  is  set  up 
between  the  effect  of  truth  and  the  effect  of  natural  causes.  Nor  are  the 
two  compared  in  all  respects. 

It  is  not  intimated  that  truth  acts  as  natural  causes  act — that  truth  pro- 
duces effects  on  mind  in  the  same  way  as  rain  does  upon  the  earth  and  its 
vegetation.  Nothing  of  this.  The  comparison  instituted  respects  one  thing, 
and  only  one  thing,  and  that  is  the  equal  certainty  of  two  things.  The 
passage  teaches  simply  and  only  that  there  is  as  much  certainty  that  the 
truth  of  God  will  produce  its  appropriate  results,  in  its  own  way,  as  there 
is  that  natural  elements  will,  in  their  own  way,  produce  their  natural  re- 
sults. Those  who  attempt  to  draw  a  parallel  between  the  operations  of 
God's  moral  government  and  His  natural  one,  and  call  upon  this  passage 
for  witness,  neither  understand  the  import  of  this  text  nor  the  nature  of 
the  thing  whereof  they  treat. 

It  is  a  comforting  declaration,  and  to  none  more  so  than  to  Christians 
who  love  truth.  We  often  fear  that  it  will  be  covered  up,  its  influence  de- 
stroyed; that  through  the  weakness  of  men,  or  the  power  of  evil,  or  some 
disastrous  reverse  of  events,  its  power  will  be  lost.     And  particularly  are 

687 


688  APPENDIX. 

ministers,  whose  chief  duty  it  is  to  study  truth,  to  promulgate  and  confirm 
it  throughout  the  community,  liable  to  despond  when  they  find  themselves 
coping  with  so  many  malign  influences,  so  much  coldness,  and  scepti- 
cism, and  worldliness,  and  ignorance.  If  they  look  only  upon  the  narrow 
scale  upon  which  they  labor,  it  often  would  seem  as  if  there  were  indeed  no 
power  in  truth,  no  certainty  that  it  would  fructify. 

It  is  an  assurance,  then,  to  our  faith,  and  a  great  comfort  to  us  in  our  toil, 
when  we  listen  to  Him  who  sitteth  in  the  heavens,  and  before  whom  all 
things  are  open  and  naked — who  sits  serene  above  all  the  whirl  which  dis- 
tracts and  confuses  us  on  this  dusty  earth,  and  hear  Him  say,  seeing  the  be- 
ginning from  the  end  of  all  things  :  "  For  as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the 
snow  from  heaven,  and  returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  and 
maketh  it  bring  forth  and  bud, that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and  bread 
to  the  eater:  so  shall  my  word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of  my  mouth;  it  shall 
not  return  unto  me  void,  but  it  shall  accomplish  that  which  I  please,  and  it 
shall  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it." 

We  design  at  this  time  to  draw  from  our  text  a  few  obvious  inferences, 
to  confirm  and  illustrate  and  apply  them. 

I.  We  7/iay  infer  that  truth  is  adapted  to  produce  moral  results  in  this 
world. 

Hoiu  it  produces  them  we  shall  not  examine.  It  is  a  matter  of  philoso- 
phy, of  speculation,  and  we  concern  ourselves  with  the  practical  bearing  of 
our  text. 

This  inference  will  appear  the  more  plainly  true  if  we  consider — 

i.  That  the  Bible  is  explicit  upon  this  head.  Paul  says  to  Timothy: 
"  From  a  child  thou  hast  known  the  holy  Scriptures,  which  are  able  to  make 
thee  wise  unto  salvation,  through  faith  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus." 

And  not  satisfied  with  specific  assertion,  he  generalizes  and  makes  it 
a  general  principle:  "  All  scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and 
is  profitable  for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  for  instruction  in 
righteousness,  that  the  man  of  God  may  be  perfect,  thoroughly  furnished 
unto  all  good  works  "  (2  Timothy  iii.  16-17;. 

Could  anything  be  more  untrue,  if  truth  has  not  an  adaptation  to  pro- 
duce what  it  is  said  to  do? 

Throughout  the  Bible  God  regards  truth  as  sufficient  to  accomplish  His 
purposes,  and  nothing  is  so  severely  dealt  with,  by  rebuke  and  judgment, 
as  that  deficiency  and  sin  which  comes  of  neglecting  or  refusing  truth. 

"  What  more  could  I  have  done  for  my  vineyard  than  I  have  done? 
Wherefore, when  I  looked,  that  it  should  bring  forth  grapes,  brought  it  forth 
wild  grapes  ?" 

A  constant  visible  Providence,  mighty  acts,  the  record  of  wonderful  de- 
liverances and  mercies,  and  the  institutes  of  a  beneficent  law — were  not 
these  adapted  to  produce  the  required  obedience  in  the  Jews?  If  truth 
have  not  adaptation  to  produce  moral  results,  the  Jew  very  pertinently 
might  have  replied  to  this  severe  rebuke  :  What  has  been  done  to  pro- 
duce obedience?  Nothing  but  a  series  of  truths  have  been  given  which 
have  no  adaptation  or  tendency  to  produce  holiness. 


APPENDIX.  689 

Nothing  liis  been  clone  to  make  us  othei  thai!  we  are.     And  in 
accordance  with  the  spirit  of  this  was  Christ's  teaching  when  He  said:  "  If  I 

had  not  conic  ami   spoken    unto  them,  tiny  had    not   had  sin;  but  now  they 
have  no  cloak  lor  their  sin  "  (John  xv.  22). 

2.  The  very  object  for  which  truth  was  revealed  confirms  the  truth  <>f 
our  inference.  It  was  revealed  either  for  something  or  for  nothing.  If 
for  nothing,  it  was  foolishness.  But  if  for  something,  then  either  it  was 
fitted  to  produce  what  it  was  created  for,  or  it  was  not.  If  it  was  not 
adapted  to  produce  that  for  which  it  was  created,  then  God  attempted  to 
bring  to  pass  an  end  with  means  ill-adapted  to  that  end.  He  raised  up  an 
instrumentality  without  adaptation  to  do  what  he  desired.  But  what  is 
meant  by  instrumentality,  which  has  nothing  of  an  instrument  in  it  ?  What 
is  instrumentality  without  any  adaptation  to  do  anything  ?  Consequently 
if  we  would  avoid  imputing  such  weakness,  such  double  folly  and  failure 
to  God,  we  must  admit  with  the  Bible  the  adaptation  of  truth  to  produce 
its  appropriate  moral  results. 

Men  travel  across  the  express  declarations  of  His  word,  and  cross 
reason,  to  support  a  philosophical  theory  which,  after  all,  destroys  the  very 
thing  for  which  they  framed  it. 

3.  Our  inference  becomes  still  more  apparent  in  truth  if  for  a  moment 
we  admit  the  opposite  doctrine  and  watch  its  results. 

(1)  The  law  is  composed  of  truths  respecting  God,  His  relations  to  us, 
and  ours  to  Him — the  duties  flowing  thence,  the  penalties  and  rewards  re- 
spectively of  disobedience  or  obedience,  our  duties  to  one  another,  etc.; 
and  all  this  professedly  is  given  to  restrainTrom  evil  and  produce  good. 

But  if  truth  has  no  adaptation  to  produce  moral  effects,  the  law  was 
designed  to  do  what  it  had  no  adaptation  to  do.  It  could  have  no  influ- 
ence and  no  power,  and  God  is  represented  as  framing  a  law  to  do  what  it 
had  no  relevancy  to  do. 

(2)  The  character  of  God — why  is  it  held  forth  to  excite  admiration 
and  love,  if  that  has  no  adaptation  to  excite  such  feelings  ? 

There  is  nothing  in  God,  nothing  in  His  attributes,  which  can  awaken 
the  least  emotion,  unless  truth  can  work  out  moral  results. 

(3)  And  precisely  so  of  all  the  recorded  doings  of  God  since  creation, 
especially  that  stupendous  spectacle — the  Atonement.  All  is  thrown 
away  as  respects  influence  upon  intelligent  moral  beings,  they  are  utterly 
worthless,  if  they  have  no  power  to  do  anything.  In  short,  this  theory,  so 
unfounded,  so  monstrous  either  in  philosophy  or  fact,  so  repugnant  to 
every  declaration  of  God,  would  destroy  every  influence  which  the  Bible 
was  sent  to  produce. 

It  cuts  off  the  mind  from  any  influence  except  that  by  which  a  stick  or 
stone  might  be  moved  from  place  to  place.  The  strong  declaration  of  the 
Bible  that  men  resist  the  truth — how,  if  nothing  to  resist  ? 

We  admit  that  truth,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  does  not  produce  its  legitimate 
results  without  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  But  then  the  reason  lies 
in  the  depravity  of  our  hearts,  and  not  in  any  want  of  adaptation  in  the 
truth. 


690  appendix. 

God  made  it  ample,  it  was  enough  to  create  infinite  obligation,  and, 
if  unresisted,  to  have  kept  us  from  sin  and  trained  us  up  in  holiness.  Our 
depravity  resisted  its  action,  and  would  always  ;  and  this  is  the  ground  and 
necessity  of  the  interference  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Not  the  want  of  light,  but  men  love  darkness  better  ;  not  the  want  of 
adaptation  in  truth,  but  men  resist  it,  and  will  do  so  for  ever,  unless  God 
shall  send  the  Holy  Spirit.  In  His  hands  truth  becomes  omnipotent.  He 
pierces  with  it  the  darkest  eye,  and  sounds  it  upon  the  deafest  ear,  and 
rouses  up  the  deadest  heart,  "enlightening  by  it  their  minds  spiritually 
and  savingly  to  understand  the  things  of  God,  and  effectually  drawing 
them  to  Jesus  Christ,  being  made  willing  by  His  grace." 

We  are  not,  however,  to  rest  satisfied  with  this  mere  intellectual  view 
of  this  point.  It  has  very  deep,  practical  importance,  which  I  shall  briefly 
lay  open  to  you. 

i.   It  shows  you  the  importance  of  knowing  zv hat  the  truth  is  exactly. 

God  has  made  truth  to  produce  certain  results  of  good,  and  no  sub- 
stitute for  it  will.  The  husbandman  who  would  raise  a  harvest  of  wheat 
must  sow  wheat,  not  something  which  is  only  very  much  like  it.  The 
Christian  who  would  have  the  fruits  of  truth  in  his  heart  must  believe  the 
truth,  and  not  something  that  is  very  much  like  it. 

He  who  would  have  the  fruits  of  God's  love  in  his  heart,  who  would 
grow  rich  in  the  graces  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  must  understand  God's  char- 
aderjust  as  it  is  revealed — i.e.,  just  as  it  is,  for  it  is  the  truth  of  His  char- 
acter which  will  produce  salutary  results,  and  nothing  else  will.  Hence 
those  who  entertain  false  views  of  God  have  a  deficient  condition  of 
mind  and  heart  in  exact  proportion  as  they  deviate  from  the  truth  ;  and 
this  is  the  reason  why  those  who  reje'ct  the  Divinity  of  our  Lord  and  Sa- 
viour wane  in  piety,  in  happiness,  and  finally  experience  from  their  view 
of  God  hardly  one  beneficial  result.  They  have  expected  that  what  was 
not  true  would  produce  in  them  the  effect  of  what  was  true.  Consequently 
we  find  the  sacred  writers  anxiously  inculcating  a  diligent,  careful  study 
of  the  character  of  God,  as  Paul  to  the  Colossians  (chap.  ii.  2,  3):  "  That 
their  hearts  might  be  comforted,  being  knit  together  in  love,  and  unto  all 
riches  of  the  full  assurance  of  understanding,  to  the  acknowledgment  of 
the  mystery  of  God,  and  of  the  Father,  and  of  Christ  ;  in  whom  are  hid  all 
the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge." 

And  just  before  :  "  That  ye  might  walk  worthy  of  the  Lord  unto  all 
pleasing,  being  fruitful  in  every  good  work,  and  increasing  in  the  know- 
ledge of  God." 

So,  too,  Eph.  i,  17:  "That  the  God  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Father  of  glory,  may  give  unto  you  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  revelation  in 
the  knowledge  of  Him." 

2.  So  also  respecting  doctrine.  We  are  bound  to  know  exactly  what 
God  has  revealed,  for  that  is  to  produce  the  good  effect  in  the  hands  of  the 
Spirit,  and  not  an  imagination  which  we  think  is  true.  If  by  total  depravity 
we  teach  something  else  than  that  which  the  Bible  teaches,  will  the  same 
results  flow?     If,  instead  of  regeneration,  as  Christ  and  Paul  explain  it,  we 


APPENDIX,  69  I 

v.unp  np  1  theory  aside  and  different  from  it.  will  the  effect  h<-  th<-  same } 
Will  the  Holy  Spirit  employ  it  equally  with  the  othei  ? 

Nay,  ho  wht)  does  not  preach  truth,  and  believe  truth,  preaches  error 
and  believes  error.  Truth  saves,  and  erroi  destroys.  And  this  is  tip 
son  why  it  is  some  matter  wh.it  ;i  man  belli  ves,  provided  he  is  sincere. 
God  does  not  regenerate  and  save  \>y  sincerity,  but  by  truth.  Error  re<  1 
sincerely  is  only  error  placed  where  it  shall  work  out  its  fullest  evils  with 
the  greatest  certainty,  and  witli  every  help  which  the  heart  can  afford.  Er- 
ror sincerely  received  is  death  cordially  embraced. 

3.  Hence  we  see  how  deeply  important  it  becomes  for  Christians  to 
employ  prayer  and  diligent  study  of  the  Bible,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God 
may  enlighten  their  minds  with  all  truth. 

All  that  which  constitutes  a  pure  and  holy  heart  must  come  trom  truth; 
ourselves  and  our  hearers  are  to  be  saved  by  truth  in  the  hands  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  How  earnestly,  then,  should  we  seek  His  divine,  unerring 
guidance!  If  He  teach  us,  we  shall  have  truth  indeed;  but  if  left  to  our 
depraved  hearts  how  soon  shall  we  draw  in  error,  how  soon  shall  we  be 
spoiled  by  vain  philosophy  and  deceit  after  the  traditions  of  men,  after  the 
rudiments  of  this  world,  and  not  after  Christ  !  And  if  deserted  forever,  how 
rapid  will  be  our  deterioration  from  bad  to  worse,  until  eternal  death  do 
close  upon  us! 

4.  The  importance  of  propagating,  through  all  the  world,  the  Bible, 
is  most  particularly  taught  in  the  text,  and  is  most  appropriately  deduced 
from  our  position.  God  has  promised  that  His  Holy  Spirit  shall  go  with 
it,  shall  make  it  effective.  Would  we  fill  the  earth  with  the  power  of 
God's  Spirit,  send  abroad  the  Bible,  by  which  He  has  graciously  deter- 
mined to  act,  and  through  which  He  will  sanctify  and  save. 

II.  The  second  inference  which  I  draw  from  this  passage  is  that, 
when  the  truth  is  properly  explained  and  applied,  we  are  both  allowed  and 
bound  to  expect  corresponding  auspicious  results. 

1.  So  Christ  and  His  apostles  taught  by  example.  Christ  refused  to 
throw  away  labor  when  nothing  could  be  expected  from  it.  Hence  He 
never  would  open  to  the  Pharisees  and  bigoted  doctors  of  Jerusalem  the 
nature  of  His  message,  nor  descant  upon  the  character  of  God,  nor  urge 
upon  them  His  claims,  nor  urge  them  to  repent,  nor  work  miracles  before 
them.  He  knew  the  heart  of  man,  and  knew  that  no  good  would  follow. 
If,  then,  the  ground  of  exclusion  from  the  labors  of  His  ministry  was  that 
there  could  be  no  hope  of  success,  then  where  He  did  labor  it  must  have 
been  upon  the  ground  of  hope  of  success. 

So  Paul  repeatedly  rejoices  in  the  power  of  the  Gospel  to  save  man- 
kind, and  gloried  in  this  with  great  exultation,  proclaiming  that  on  this  ac- 
count he  was  not  ashamed  of  it. 

Now,  was  it  the  mere  fact  that  Paul  felt  that  the  truths  of  the  Gospel 
had  the  power,  abstractly,  to  save  mankind,  without  any  particular  expec- 
tation that  they  would  do  so,  or  did  his  heart  fire  because  he  most  con- 
fidently expected  that  nations  would  be  born  to  Christ  by  his  preachings  ? 
No  one  whose  hea.rt  ever  burned  with   a  desire  of  glorifying  God  by  gath- 


6()2 


APPENDIX. 


ering  in  souls  to  His  kingdom  can  hesitate  to  say  which  of  these  inspired 
Paul.  It  is  no  joy,  no  subject  of  particular  gratulation,  that  the  Gospel 
can  save  mankind,  unless  we  also  believe  that  it  actually  will. 

The  only  reason  why  we  rejoice  in  its  adaptation  to  save  the  world  is 
because  we  believe  that  the  world  should  be  saved. 

How  wide  of  the  truth  are  they  who  think  that  a  faithful,  sincere  Chris- 
tian or  minister-  has  no  right  to  expect  the  fruits  of  their  labor,  but  are 
bound  to  rest  as  satisfied  that  it  should  not  as  that  it  should  happen  !  It 
is  a  spirit  utterly  repugnant  to  the  Gospel.  Some  would  imagine  that  we 
should  not  so  expect — expect  confidently  the  fruit  of  our  labors — because 
God  is  a  Sovereign  and  worketh  according  to  the  counsel  of  His  own  will. 

But  this  is  the  very  ground  upon  which  we  build  our  confidence. 

It  is  because  God,  as  a  Sovereign,  acting  most  freely  and  accoiding  to 
the  purposes  of  His  own  will,  hath  joined  to  truth  its  appropriate  results, 
and  has  encouraged  us  to  expect  them.  If  God  were  no  Sovereign,  we 
should  have  no  confidence,  never  knowing  what  might  or  might  not  hap- 
pen. But  now,  since  He  is  Supreme,  and  hath  joined  truth,  well  applied, 
to  a  certainty  of  corresponding  results,  we  shall  most  shamefully  do  vio- 
lence to  His  Divine  Sovereignty  if  we  affect  to  doubt  whether  it  will  in 
fact  be  as  He  hath  ordained  that  it  shall  be.  If  He  had  not  joined  means 
to  ends  it  would  be  temerity  to  expect  the  one  from  the  other. 

But  since  He  has,  it  would  be  doubting  Him,  contradicting  Him,  if  we 
were  not  so  to  do. 

To  the  diligent  farmer  God  gives  abundant  increase,  to  the  laborious 
artist  remuneration  corresponding  to  his  skill.  To  the  faithful  minister, 
who  rises  betimes  to  sow  the  seeds  of  life  and  waters  them  with  his  tears, 
God  will  give  him  an  abundant  harvest  ;  and  the  diligent  Christian  who  em- 
ploys all  the  means  of  truth  within  his  reach,  in  humble  reliance  upon 
God,  shall  not  be  disappointed.  He  may  expect  growth  in  grace,  and  God 
will  not  falsify  his  hopes. 

The  Sovereignty  of  God  is  the  sure  ground  upon  which  every  one 
may  build  his  hopes  and  not  be  disappointed.  For  God  is  not  a  man  that 
He  should  lie,  hath  He  said,  and  shall  He  not  do  it  ? 

2.  Success  of  ministry  and  Christian  effort  demand  it  for  very  con- 
stitution of  our  nature. 

3.  Only  ground  on  which  the  multiplied  institution  of  the  Gospel  can 
be  available.* 

III.  The  third  inference  which  I  draw  from  this  passage  is  that  the 
instrumentality  of  the  truth,  the  efficiency  of  the  means,  does  not  detra  t  Jrom 
the fower  of  God,  but  highly  illustrates  it. 

1.  It  will  be  observed  in  this  passage  that,  although  so  much  effi- 
ciency is  given  to  truth,  yet  God  is  continually  speaking,  and  speaking,  too, 
in  the  air  of  most  sovereign  authority.  Truth  is  made  to  appear  perfectly 
subservient  to  his   Divine  Will.     "  So  shall  My  word  be  that  goeth  forth 

*  These  two  subdivisions  were  not  written  out  in  full,  blank  spaces  being  left  in  the 
original  for  their  fuller  elaboration. 


APPENDIX.  693 


out  nt'  Mv  mouth  :  it  shall  not  return  unto  me  voiil,  bill  it  shall  accomplish 
thai  :.■'...'.  ind  it  shall  prospei  In  the  thing  whereto  /  sent  It." 

2.  The  reason  why  it  illustrates  and  does  nol  detract   from  God's  su- 
premacy and    power    may  now  easily  be  seen.      It   shall    do   just  what 
wishes  to  be  done,  and  for  which  He  appointed  it,  and  for  which    He  made 

it  efficient.  Besides  this  it  can  do  nothing  else.  It  can  only  do  this  be- 
cause God  so  wills.  Truth  is  not  an  agent  acting,  since  God  made  it,  in- 
dependently of  God,  self-moved  ;  nor  is  it  to  be  turned  by  man  to  do  as 
he  wishes.  It  does  what  it  was  made  to  do,  and  God  made  it,  so  that  all 
its  effects  are  but  new  examples  of  the  power  of  God.  It  hangs  where 
God  placed  it,  and  shines  in  the  sphere  He  circumscribed,  and  nowhere 
else. 

3.  It  accomplishes  this  result,  which  belongs  to  it,  not  from  any  in- 
herent virtue  which  redeems  it  from  the  power  of  God,  and  causes  its 
effects  to  illustrate  only  its  own  power,  but  simply  and  always  because 
God  pleases  that  it  should  do  so.  As  its  powers  are  enlarged  and  encom- 
pass greater  results,  so  must  be  the  conception  of  His  power  who  clothed 
it  with  such  efficiency.., 

And  God  always  sustains  truth,  and  those  circumstances  by  which  it 
can  produce  fitting  results,  and  if  He  dropped  them  for  one  moment  from 
His  care  they  would  perish. 

Whoever,  then,  finds  that  the  employment  of  means  of  truth  is  produc- 
ing a  forgetfulness  of  God,  may  be  assured  that  he  is  using  them  wrong- 
fully. -It  is  a  pernicious  result  wrought  in  him  by  abusing  our  constituted 
mode  of  action. 

He  who  properly  appreciates  the  notion  of  means  and  instrumentality 
will  ever  have  most  occasion  to  admire  both  the  power  and  goodness  of 
God,  and  His  wisdom  too,  in  that  constitution  of  things  which  He  has 
made. 


INDEX. 


Abolitionists,  feeling  against,  II.  W. 
Beecher  on,  26S,  420 ;  ostracized 
socially,  1S5  ;  Webster,  Daniel,  on, 

239- 

Advance,  the,  organization  of,  491. 

Advisory  Council  (1874),  assembling 
of,  526  ;  call  for,  523  ;  deliverance 
of,  527  ;  Plymouth  invited  at.  de- 
clines, 527  ;  protest  against,  a,  524. 

Advisory  Council  (1876),  assembling 
of,  543  ;  Beecher,  H.  W  ,  cautions 
on,  to  church,  539,  statements  at, 
544-549,  declared  innocent  by,  550, 
address  to,  at   close,  552;    call   for, 

537  ;  committee  on  charges,  advises 
an.  55°.  558;  composition  of,  538; 
officers  of.  543,  544  ;  Plymouth  sus- 
tained by,  549  ;  principle  of  selec- 
tion of,  538;  questions  submitted  to, 

538  ;  Sturtevant's,  Dr.,  opinion  of 
Mr.  Beecher,  551  ;  Wellman's,  Dr., 
opinion  of  Mr.  Beecher,  550. 

Allen,  Ethan,  remark  of,  on  British 
cruelty,  35. 

America,  a  "  better  England,"  25. 

Amherst,  Mass.,  in  1827,  93  ; 
Beecher's,  H.  W.,  garden  plot  in, 
96. 

Amherst  College  in  1830,  112  ;  Beech- 
er's, H.  W.,  course  at,  109-135  ; 
offers  title  of  D.D.  to  Mr.  Beecher, 
39i. 

Anderson,  Gen.  Robert,  tribute  to, 
by  Mr.  Beecher,  452. 

Anecdotes  :  Boston  woman,  the  cross, 
11S  ;  calf  and  bees,  637;  cannon- 
ball,  the,  87  ;  cat  in  the  organ.  382; 
cow,  chase  of  the,  14T  ;  "Dinah. 
Crazy,"  243;  dog  Noble,  290; 
English  beggar,  670  ;  "  follow-your- 
leader,"  85  ;  Fulton  omnibuses, 
248  ;  grammar,  lesson  in,  75,  76  ; 
Grant,  Gen.,  and  Mr.  Beecher's 
titles,  663  ;  kite,  the,  203  ;  liquor- 
seller,  the,  195  ;  lions,  two  mon- 
strous, 51  ;  ruffian,  the.  194  ;  slaves 


186  ;  Stowe,  Prof.,  outwitted,  141  ; 
tides,  explanation  of,  76  ;  truant, 
the,  184;  tub-raft,  the,  208;  "Tu- 
tor's Delight,"  116. 

Arthur,  Chester  A.,  opinion  on,  of  Mr. 
Beecher,  575  ;  en  renomination  of, 
576. 

Articles,  H.  W.  Beecher's,  sources  and 
characteristics  of,  325,  326  ;  Cau->e 
and  Cure  of  Agitation  (1850),  242  ; 
Christian's  Duty  to  Liberty  (1854), 
276  ;  Church  and  Steamboat  (1850), 
35<j,  351;  Contrast,  The  (1862),  335; 
Controversy,  Harsh  (1850),  244 ; 
Convictions,  Various,  and  Sin  (1852), 
353  ;  Country's  Need  (1862),  328  ; 
Courage  and  Enterprise  (1862),  324; 
Crisis,  The  (1854),  273  ;  Defence  of 
Kansas,  283  ;  Degraded  into  Lib- 
erty (1852),  263  ;  Different  Ways  of 
Giving  (1850),  352  ;  Disbanding  of 
Bowdoin  St.  Church  (1862),  98  ; 
Dog  Noble  and  Empty  Hole  (1856), 
290  ;  Dull  Meetings,  One  Cause  of 
(1852),  353;  Duty,  The  Great  (1862), 
327  ;  Duty  of  the  Hour  (1862),  323  ; 
Duty  of  To-day  (1862),  330  ;  Flow- 
ers in  Church  (1862),  392  ;  Fugitive 
Slave  Bill  (1850),  240  ;  Ground,  The 
Only  (1862),  333  ;  Hearts  and  No 
Hearts  (1856),  287  ;  Hours  of  Ex- 
altation (1857),  373  I  Hymns, 
Church  (1855),  366 ;  Ice  in  the 
Church  (1852),  353  ;  Infidel  Toa?:t, 
The  (1859),  389;  Law  and  Con- 
science (1850),  240,241  ;  Leader  for 
the  People  (1862),  332  ;  Lind,  Jenny 
(1850),  351  ;  Litchfield  Revisited 
(1856),  35;  Liturgy,  Church,  370; 
Men,  not  Slaves  (1862),  323  ;  Moun- 
tain and  the  Closet  (1857),  373  ; 
Naval  Discipline  (1852),  355;  News- 
paper Report,  on  a  (1852I,  356;  Our 
Help  from  Above  (1862),  323; 
Patriotism  of  the  People  (1862), 
329  ;     Proclamation    of    Emnncina- 


teaching  of,  253  ;  sleeper  in  church,  I      tion,  on  (1862),  336  ;  Queer  Pulp 


695 


696 


1XDEX. 


A  (1862),  334;  Reconstruction 
(1862),  333  ;  Remember  the  Poor 
(1850),  352  ;  Root  of  the  Matter 
(1862),  331  ;  Salutatory  (1861),  321  ; 
Shall  we  Compromise  ?  (1850),  237  ; 
Silence  must  be  Nationalized  (1856), 
287;  Time,  The,  has  Come  (1862), 
332  ;  Trumpet,  The  (1862),  335  ; 
Use  of  the  Beautiful  by  Christians, 
393  ;  War  with  England  (1S61),  322; 
Word  from  the  People  to  Congress 
(1S62),  323;  Working  with  Errorists 
(1859),  38o. 
Atchison,  David  R.,  in  Kansas  war, 
277. 

Bacon,  Rev.  Leonard,  letters  of, 
against  Tilton,  527  ;  letter  of,  on 
reconciliation,  559. 

Barnes,  Hiram  (Litchfield),  reminis- 
cence of,  37. 

Beach,  Hon.  W.  A.,  convinced  of  H. 
W.  Beecher's  innocence,  533. 

Beecher,  Rev.  Charles,  anecdotes  by, 
of  H.  W.  Beecher,  50  ;  music,  early 
work  in,  92,  138,  139;  recollections 
by,  of  boyhood,  57,  58,  of  Semi- 
nary days,  139. 

Beecher,  David,  character  of,  17; 
strength  of,  20. 

Beecher,  Rev.  Edward,  promotes  Ad- 
vance, 491. 

Beecher,  Esther,  influence  of,  on  H. 
W.  Beecher,  6S,  69;  in  Brooklyn, 
352  ;  Mr.  Beecher's  tribute  to,  38. 

Beecher,  George  (son  of  Lyman), 
death  of,  204. 

Beecher,  Hannah,  reminiscence  of,  19. 

Beecher,  Harriet  (daughter  of  Lyman) 
— see  Stowe,  Haruet  B. 

Beecher,  Harriet  (wife  of  Lyman),  ar- 
rival of,  at  Litchfield,  54;  Beecher's, 
H.  W.,  opinion  of,  65,  religious  in- 
struction by,  77,  tribute  to,  143; 
death  of,  143;  home  training, 
methods  of,  65  ;  impressions  of 
Beecher  family,  54,  55;  marriage  of, 
to  Lyman  Beecher,  53;  reminis- 
cence of,  by  Mrs.  Stowe,  54. 

Beecher,  Henry  (i57°)»  notice  of.  19. 

Beecher,  Rev.  Henry  Ward,  Adminis- 
tration, strictures  on.  in  1862,  328- 
331*    335!    distrusted   by,    in    1863, 

397,  443,  feeling  changed,   444. 

Advisory  Council (1 S76),  on,  538 ;  cau- 
tions his  people  as  to,  538;  state- 
ments at,  544;  challenge  at,  545; 
demands  production  of  letters,  549; 
declared  innocent  by,   550;  address 


to,    at   close,   552. Agriculture, 

articles  on,  182;  studies  in,  198; 
work  in,  199.    See  under   Farm,   p. 

69S,  and  Peekskill,   p.    701. Aid 

sought  from,   some   samples  of,  656. 

Ambition     of,    for    enterprise, 

89;  personal,  devoid  of,  593,  advice 
to  a  relative  on,  593,  594. Ameri- 
can, a  typical,  25. Amherst  Col- 
lege, enters,  109;  course  at,  choice 
of,  112;  studies  at,  113;  reminis- 
cences by  Dr.  Field,  113,  115,  by 
Dr.  Haven,  113,  by  L.  Tappan,  114, 
117,  by  S.  H.  Emery,  114,  by  Rev. 
S.  Hanks,  114;  debate,  a  victory  in, 
114;  "  Tutor's  Delight,"  116;  sports 
at,  117;  financial  difficulties,  117; 
plans  to  earn  money,  118;  in  anti- 
slavery  debate,  119;  record  at,   135. 

Ancestry  of,   20,  21;  its  legacy 

of  loyalty  and  truth,  24. — Ander- 
son,   Gen.    Robert,  tribute  to,  452. 

Art,  effect  of  works  of,  346-348; 

high,  versus  decorative,  on,  645;  his 

collection  of  prints,  646. Arthur, 

Chester  A.,  praise  of,  575;  renom- 
ination  of,  reasons  for  desiring,  575, 

576. Aspirations,     on    youthful, 

89. Attainments   of,  at  ten,    70, 

71. Atonement,  on  doctrine  of, 

607. Auction-sale,  slave,  imita- 
tion of,    292 Audiences   of,    on 

early,     594. Autobiography    of, 

preparations    for,    673. Bacon's, 

Dr.    L.,  letter  to,  on   reconciliation, 

559;  reply,   560. Bashfulness  of, 

youthful,  70. Battle  of,  a  youth- 
ful, 36. Beautiful,    on   Christian 

enjoyment  of  the,  393;  in  nature, 
his  love  for,  394.  —  Beecher, 
Esther,  tribute  to,  38;  influenced 
by,  68. Beecher's,  Harriet,  im- 
pressions of,  55;  instructed  in  re- 
ligion   by,   77;  his   tribute    to,   143. 

Beecher,    Lyman,    estimate   of, 

17;  effect  on,  of  conduct  of,  68,  69; 
indignant    at   persecution    of,    151. 

Beecher,     Roxana,    tribute    to, 

24;  recollections  of,  47;  influenced 
by  memory  of.  67,  554;  opinion  of, 

from   her   letters,    128. Beecher, 

Rev.   T.  K. ,    reminiscence  by,   90, 

138. Belgian   court,    experiences 

at,  404. Bible,  early  analysis  of, 

137,    192;    on    method   of   reading, 

642. — Birth    of,    37,    41. Birds, 

love  for,  615,  616. Blaine,  J.  G., 

opinion  of,  576;  refuses  to  support, 
577,    threatened    for    refusal,     579; 


697 


election    of,  on    probable   result    <>f. 

571). Books,  on  buying,  04s. 

Bobton,  bells  of,  amazed  at,  83; 
ships  and  Navy-Yard  in,  enthusiasm 
over,  84;  on  juvenile  feuds  of,  85; 
chief  in,  of  "  follow- your-leader,'^ 
85;  cannon-ball,  purloins  a,  87; 
life  at,  in  boyhood,  90-92;  moral  in- 
fluence of,  bad,  92;  joins  Bowdoin 
St.  Church,  98;  receives  call  to, 
216;  defence  at,  on  scandal  rumors, 

535. Bowen,  Henry  C,  hostility 

of,  490,  492;  action  of,  in  Tilton's 
charge  against  Mr.  Beecher,  511, 
charge  published,  513,  514;  on  re- 
newed   charges   of,    542,    543. 

Brattleboro,  Vt.,  lecture  at,  130-132. 

Brice,    Pomona,   help  for,    293. 

Brooklyn,  declines  reception  by 

Common  Council  of,  672. Brown, 

John,  sermon  on,  301. Brussels, 

visit  to,  in  1863,  403. Buchanan, 

Pres.,    on    administration    of,    305; 

on  fast-day  of,   307. Budington, 

Rev.  W.,  church  of,  seeks  to  heal 
dissension  in,  524;  letter  to,  on  its 
protest,  526. Callers,  daily,  de- 
scription     of,      657. Calvinism, 

early  teaching  in,  70,  77. Camp, 

life  in,  on  dangers  of,  319. Cate- 
chism, a  failure  at,  65. Charac- 
ter, moulding  of,  44,  81  ;  at  seven- 
teen, 108,  112  ;  during  college 
course,   113-116  ;  in  manhood,  258 

Charity,  on,    352  ;    demands  on 

his,  658. Charleston,  S.  C,  in- 
vited to  deliver  address  at  (1865), 
449;  Stanton's  despatch  concerning, 
450;  address   at,  451-454;    purpose 

of,  in  going  to,  460. Children,  love 

for,  639  ;  a  method  of  whipping, 
640  ;  his  own,  on  newspaper  report 
as  to,  356  ;  training  of,  640  ;  justice 
tempered  by  love,  641  ;  advice  to,  on 
self-helpfulness,  641,  on  religion,  on 
Bible-reading,  642,  on  study,  642, 
643,  on  health  and  on  duty,  643,  on 
choosing  profession,  643,  on  literary 

style,  644. Chimes,  church,   first 

experience  with,  83. ' '  Choosing 

good  parents,"  on,  17. Christian- 
ity,   on   power  of,  to   crush  slavery, 

268. Christian  Union,  in  control 

of,  491. Church,  going  to,  when 

a  boy,  59,  promises  made,  60,  ex- 
periences at,  61  ;  on  growth  of  a, 
227,   483  ;    on    proper    work    of    a, 

540. Church-bell,  adventure  with 

a,    60. Church-membership,    on,  j 


362. Cincinnati,  O.,  family  life  at, 

140;  drives  off  his  father's  cow,  141  ; 
constable  at,  a,   142  ;    "  family   1 
ing"  at,  142  ;  Journal  of,  editor  of, 

141- Cleveland,     Pres.,    remarks 

on  slanders  against,  577  ;  support  of. 
reasons  for,  577-580  ;  on  adminis- 
tration of,  587. Cleveland  letters: 

invited  as  chaplain  to  convention, 
461  ;  reply  to  invitation,  465,  public- 
clamor  against,  462,  remarks  on, 
474.  475  I  Tyng's,  Dr.,  letter  on,  469, 
reply,  470  ;  Storrs's,  Dr.,  letter  on, 
471  ;  Mr.  Beecher's  second  letter, 
472,  effect  of,  477,  Storrs,  Dr.,  on, 
477  ;    assailed    by   Independent   for, 

501. Coffee,    effect  of,    652. 

Colors,    how    affected  by,   649-651. 

Compromise    measures,    article 

on,  236-238  ;  Missouri  Compromise, 
on  repeal  of,  273-277 ;  appeal  to 
ministers  as  to,  275,  276  ;  on  offer  of, 
in    i860,  306  ;  in   general,  on,  421  ; 

on   proposal  for,  in    1864,  445. 

Congress,  on  proposed  nomination 
to,  360. Congregational  Associa- 
tion, resigns  from,  567,  56S  ;  state- 
ment to,  568  ;  remarks  on  criticisms 
of  his  action,  569. Congregation- 
al Church,  estimate  of,  610. Con- 
spiracy against,  beginning  of,  494  ; 
statement  on,  495-520,  effect  of  pub- 
lication of,  531  ;  investigating  com- 
mittee, calls  for  an.  499,  528,  action 
of,  529,  530  ;  publicity  of,  motives 
for  avoiding,  504,  519,  531,  544  ; 
Eagle,  card  in,  as  to  Woodhull  let- 
ters, 522  ;  demands  production  of 
any  letters,  529  ;  letter  to,  of  Pres. 
Porter,  532  ;  on  malignity  of  con- 
spirators, 546,  553  ;  on  prompt  de- 
mands for  investigation,  547  ;  on 
publishing  of,  548  ;  cost  of,  549,  565, 
Shearman's,  T.,  part  in,  549;  reflec- 
tions on,  557  ;  hostility  of  press  in, 
558  ;  nervous  strain  from,  558  ;  Eng- 
lish sympathy  during,  663. Con- 
scientiousness  of,    how    developed, 

65. Controversy,     harsh,    advice 

against,  244. Conversion  of,  98  ; 

recollections  of,  590. Correspon- 
dence of,  how   conducted,   658. 

Courage  of,  physical,  in  killing  mad 

dog.    664. Country,  intense  love 

for,  416,  460. Courtship  of,  121- 

127,  on  false  reports  as  to  effects  of, 

129;  Saxon,  description  of,  127. 

Cowper,  William,  on  style  of,  644. 
Creditors,  on  duty   to,  354. 


698 


INDEX. 


Cunard  steamers,  on  bigotry  upon, 
350  ;  falsehood  as  to,  charged   with, 

351. D.D.,  declination  of  title  of, 

391. Daniel,    Samuel,    poem   of, 

134. Darkness,    early     spiritual, 

78-81,  119-121,  604;  darkness  dis- 
persed, 155. Davis,  Jefferson,  on 

proposed  hanging  of,  458. Death, 

impending,  feelings  of,  507,  508,  516, 
556  ;  of  his  brother  George,  204  ;  of 
his  son  George,  205  ;  of  his  daughter 
"  Caty,"  224  ;  of  his  twin  sons,  357  ; 
of  three  nephews.  372  ;  no  fear  of, 
681,  682  ;  remarks  on,  682  ;  his 
death,  676,  wishes  concerning, 
681,  private  service  at,  677,  ser- 
vice in  Plymouth,    678  ;  burial    of, 

680  ;      grave     of,     680. Debate, 

early    power    in,    113,    114. De- 

nominationalism,  on,  611. "De- 
pravity, total,"  hatred  of  phrase,  380. 

Divine,  the,  early   strivings  for, 

77,      78,      100. Doctrine,     early 

knowledge  of,  163,  165,  604  ;  com- 
mended for,  612. Douglass,  Fred, 

invitation  to,  to  Plymouth,  248. 

Dramatic   power   of,  early,   96. 

Ecclesiastical  machinery,  dislike  of, 
152>  x53>  6°°- Edinburgh,  Scot- 
land,   speech   at,  in    1863,  419-422. 

Editor,    on   power  of   an,  321  ; 

editorial  articles,  sources  of,  325, 
characteristic   features  of,  325,  326. 

Edmonson  sisters,    in  purchase 

of,      292. Elections     of      1S84  : 

distrusts  Mr.  Blaine,  576 ;  en- 
dorses Mr.  Cleveland,  577,  578,  re- 
marks on,  578,  answer  to  remon- 
strance on,  579,  580,  answer  to 
threat,  580  ;  active  work  in,  580  ;  re- 
view of,  584-586  ;  excitement  in,  on 

calm  after,  586. Ellsworth,  Col., 

on  death  of,   313. Elocution,  how 

acquired,  95,  96  ;  gesture  in,  a 
favorite,  186. Emancipation,  de- 
mands, 331,  332,  333,  335  ;  Procla- 
mation  of,  article   on,    336  ;    God's 

will,  resigned  now  to,  337,   338. 

England,  on  war  with,  322,  412  ;  de- 
parture for,  in  1850,  339  ;  impres- 
sions of  Warwick  Castle,  Kenil- 
worth,  340,  of  Caesar's  Tower,  Guy's 
Tower,  341,  of  Stratford-on-Avon, 
342,  344,  of  Oxford,  Bodleian  Li- 
brary, 344,  345  ;  Episcopal  services 
in,  description  of,  342-344  ;  return 
from,  349.  Departure  for,  in  1863, 
396.  motives  for,  396,  397  ;  on  sym- 
pathy in,  for  South,  399,  400  ;  arrival 


in,  declines  to  speak,  400  ;  Congre- 
gational clergy  of,  strictures  on, 
401  ;  London,  first  speech  in,  401, 
402,  second  speech  in,  432-436 ; 
United  States,  on  English  dread  of, 
402,  403  ;  consents  to  speak  in,  406  ; 
requests  for  speeches  in,  407  ;  Man- 
chester, speech  at,  408-414  ;  offen- 
sive utterances  against,  denies,  416  ; 
Liverpool,  speech  in,  422-432,  pla- 
carded in,  enmity  of  press  of,  422  ; 
speeches  in,  effect  of,  436,  441  ; 
Storrs,  Dr.,  on  the  work  in,  437;  im- 
pressions from  the  visit,  438-441  ; 
New  York  papers  on  his  work  in, 
441  ;  welcomes  delegates  from,  to 
Boston  Council,  613.  Departure 
for,  in  1886,  665  ;  friends'  enthu- 
siastic farewell,  666  ;  retrospect  on 
landing,  666,  668 ;  likened  in,  to 
Gladstone,  669  ;  preaching  in  Lon- 
don, 669 ;  Westminster  Abbey, 
visit  to,  669  ;  his  work  in,  670,  671  ; 
public  meetings  in,  on  customs  at, 
670  ;  address  in  City  Temple,  671  ; 
return  from,  672. English-speak- 
ing peoples,  claimed  by  all,  26. 

English  classics,  love   for,  113,  114, 

133  ;    criticisms   on,    145,    146. 

Episcopal  Church,  impressed  by  ser- 
vice of,  343  ;  on  liturgy  of,  370  ; 
charged  with  disrespect  towards, 
371  ;    vision   of  sermon   in    a,  377  ; 

tribute  to,  610. Evil,    method  of 

combating,    194,  195,  217,  218,  219, 

355. Evolution,  sermons  on,  567; 

belief  in,   60S,  609. Exhortation 

in  social  meetings,  on,  353. Ex- 
temporaneous speech,  early  aptitude 

for,    113,  173. Farm,    work    on, 

beginning  of,  57,  617  f  knowledge  of 
farm-work,  199  ;  on  one  use  of  a, 
360  ;    at    Peekskill,    383,    619-638  ; 

work    on,  as    a   recreation,  617. 

Fishing,  first  experience  at,  31  ;  a 
confession  as  to,  614-616. Flow- 
ers, love  for,  96,  616,  626,  brings 
him  a  rebuke,  96  ;  on  abundance  of, 
392  ;  pulpit,  on  use  in,  393  ;  at  Bos- 
cobel,  626,  627  ;  how  influenced  by, 

627. Freedom  of  speech,  on,  243, 

245 ;  on  stifling  of,  in  K.ansas,284. 

Fremont,  on   marriage   of,  290. 

Fugitive  Slave  Law,  articles  on,  236- 
238,  240-244. Future  punish- 
ment, on  doctrine  of,  608. Gaelic 

blood  in,  source  of,  18. Garrison, 

William    L. ,  estimate   of,    267. 

Glasgow,    Scotland,    speech    in,    in 


TNDE  X 


1S63,      414-410. Gospel,      must 

preach  it  as  revealed  to  him,  154. 

Gospels,  an  analysis  of,  19a  ;  broad 
study  of,  596. Government,  di- 
vine,  views   on,   326  ;  chureh,  views 

on,   609. Graduates,   advice  to, 

173. Grammar,  youthful  defini- 
tion in,  75. Hall,' Rev.  Chas.  II., 

deep  friendship  for,  677. Ham- 
mers, on  animation  of,  389, Har- 
rington, Moody,  helped  by,  120. 

Health  of,  how  founded,  31 ;  impair- 
ed in  1S49,  339,  in  1863,  39^;  man- 
agement of,  652  ;  on  duty  as  to  651. 

Heaven,  digging  to  find,  49. 

"Homeward  Bound,"  liking  for,  379. 

Home-life  of,  639. Honors, 

worldly.compared  with  ministry, 592. 

Hopkinton,  Mass.,  teaching  at, 

129,  130. Horseback-riding,  ear- 
ly attempt  at,   55. Horticulture, 

love  for,  96;  studies  in,  198;  work  in, 

199;  as  an  alterative,   394,   395. 

Humorousness,  early,  115;  some  ex- 
amples  of,    75,    76,   116,    118,   122, 

124. Hymns:  see  Music,  p.  700. 

Imposed     upon,     remarks     on 

being,  659. Independent,  con- 
tributor to,  328,  488;  editor  of,  321, 
488;  Salutatory,  321;  editorials  in, 
in  1862,  322-336;  assailed  by,  for 
Cleveland  letters,  469,  491;  resigns 
editorship,  490;  severs  connection 
with,  491. Indiana  Farmer,  ed- 
itor of,  182,  185,  197. Indian- 
apolis, called  to,  179,  accepts  call, 
180;  recollections  of  parishioners, 
181-187;  his  churches  at,  181,  183, 
207;  his  residences  at,  182,  202; 
personal  appearance  at,  183;  a  re- 
fractory brother,  184;  popularity  at, 
186,  203;  an  imitative  tailor,  187; 
revivals  at,  sermon  before  Presby- 
tery, 189;  work  in  other  towns,  190, 
193;  labors  in,  against  crime,  194, 
195;  sermons  at,  on  slavery,  195-197; 
painting  his  own  house,  202;  his 
class  of  girls  at,  203;  helps  at  kite- 
making,  204;  recollections  of,  206- 
209;  tub,  adventure  with,  208;  de- 
parture from,  216;  success  at, 
charged   to  plagiarism,   218;  garden 

work   at,    617. Infidelity,    early 

victory  over,  74. Infidels  at  Cin- 
cinnati, on  the  toast  of,  381. In- 
fluences on,  early,  65,  66;  of 
Charles  Smith,  66;  of  Esther  Beech- 
er,  68;  of  his  father.  68,  69;  in  Bos 
ton,    83,    S4.  Information,   early 


desire       for,        10S. Instruction, 

catechetical,  soon  forgotten.  69. 

Investigation,  habit  of,  how  ac- 
quired,  32. Johnson,  I'res.,  let- 
ter to,  on  reconstruction,  4(^0;  stric- 
ture on,  470,  471;  accepts  policy  of, 
473. Journal  of  Commerce^  criti- 
cism on,  334. Journals  of,  ob- 
ject in  keeping,  144,  145;  some  ex- 
tracts from.  109-112,  139,  144-150, 
169,  339,  340. Judiciary,  cor- 
rupt   (1867-71),    thunders    against, 

572,  573. Kansas,  on  emigration 

to,  284;  sends  arms  to,  2S3,  286;  on 
the  contest  in,  283,  301;  strictures 
on  Administration,  302 Know- 
ledge, art  of  retaining,  647. Kos- 
suth,   Louis,  on  the   visit   of,    256; 

gift  of  Hungarian  bracelet,  352. 

Labor,  physical,  views  on,  199;  in 
the  North  and  the  South  contrasted, 

41S. Lane    Seminary,    influence 

of,  137;  life  at,  154;  graduates  from, 

157. Latin,  result  of  studies  in, 

88. Law,  on  obedience  to,  241, 

242. Lawrenceburg,    called     to, 

157;  removes  to,  plans,  158;  church 
duties  at,  159,  172;  success  and 
salary  at,  173;  housekeeping  at,  174, 
175;  Thomas's,  Rev.  J.  H  ,  remin- 
iscences, 176;  influence  at,  177;  on 
a  gift  of  clothing,  178,  179;  fare- 
well sermon  at,  180. Laws  lack- 
ing public   sentiment,  on,   459. 

Leader,  as  a  popular,  325. Lec- 
tures of,  his  first,  130-132;  at  Cin- 
cinnati in  1861,  309;  during  Rebel- 
lion, 319;  politics  and  religion  in, 
390;  purpose  of,  564;  field  of,  564; 
proceeds  of,  how  spent,  564;  omit- 
ted during  Conspiracy,  564;  resump- 
tion of,  reasons  for,  564,  565;  de- 
monstrations at,  565,  remarks  on, 
566;  in  Boston,  reception  at,  565; 
West,  reception  in,  566;  Louisville, 
reception  at,  566;  first  before  Yale 
students,  how  prepared,  59S;  ex- 
penses   in    lecture-tours,     653. 

11  Lectures  to  Young  Men,"  purpose 

of,  200;  publishing  of,  201. Left 

to    himself    in    boyhood,       59. 

Lenox,  Mass.,  farm  at,  359,  618; 
work    on,    360;    relinquished,     372. 

Leopold,    King,    presented    to, 

403,  404;  advice   to,  as  to  Mexico, 

405. Letter  of,  an  early,  50. 

Levee,    adventures   at   a,    in. 

Library  of,  how  founded,  131,  133; 
contents  of,  in    1835,    150,  in  later 


700 


INDEX. 


life.    646,    647;  a   working  library, 

647;    remark    on,    647. License, 

obtains  a,  157. "  Life  of  Christ," 

first  volume  of,  completed,  480, 
674;  second  volume  of,  work  on, 
673,  674;  prophetic  remark  concern- 
ing, 674. Lincoln,  Pres.,  esti- 
mate of,  work  for,  304,  305;  on  call 
of,  for  troops,  327,  328;  on  vacilla- 
tion of,  in  1862,  329,  332,  333;  on 
duty  of,  331;  on  Emancipation 
Proclamation  of,  336;  on  Southern 
commission  of,  in  1864,  446;  tribute 
to,  447,  456;  death  of,  454,  remarks 
on,  446,  455. Lind,  Jenny,  de- 
fence of,  351;  reminiscence  of,  351, 

352. Liquor,    on    selling  of,    by 

Christians,  354;  use  of,  652,  653;  on 
need    of,  except    as   medicine,   653. 

Litchfield,  Conn.,  early  life  in, 

31-33;  visit  to,  in  1856,  35-38; 
reminiscences  by  people  of,  36,  37; 
winter  at,  62,  63;  North  Pole  situ- 
ated in,   63;  visit  to,  in   1857,  373. 

Liturgy,    on   church,  370,    371. 

Liverpool,    Eng.,  arrival  in,  in 

1863,  400;  talk  in,  a,  401;  speech 
in,  422-432;  placarded  in,  422,  426; 
threatened  with  violence  in,  423; 
risk  in  speaking  in,  423;  subject  of 
speech,  423;  reception  at  the  hall, 

424,    425. London,     Eng.,    first 

speech  in,  in  1S63,  401;  second 
speech  in,  432-436;  voice  in,  threat- 
ened failure  of,  432,  433;  success  in, 

436;  preaches  in,  in   1886,  669. 

Love,  to  enemies,  on,  311-313; 
Christian,  betcer  than  logic,  380;  for 
friends,  658,  "slopping  over,"  re- 
marks on,  658,  659. McClellan, 

on  defeat  of,  328;   criticism  on,  331. 

Manchester,  Eng.,  reception  in, 

in  1863,  408,  409;  subject  of  speech 
in,  409;  speech  in,  410-414;  vic- 
tory    in,     410;     effect    of    speech, 

414. Manliness      and      power, 

source     of,      21. Marriage      of, 

170,  171  ;  of  his  daughter,  388, 

Mathematics,  backwardness   in,  94  ; 

opinion  of,   114. Matteawan,  N. 

Y.,  residence  at,  372,  618. Medi- 
cal schools,  views  on,  353,  354. 

Memory  of,  where  defective,  647. 
Militia,  on  need  of  moral  influ- 
ence on,  661  ;  as  a  member  of,  660- 

663. Ministers,  classification  of, 

149  ;  should  be  joyous,  150  ;  on  duty 
of,  as  to  slavery.  248-252,  as  to  war- 
tax,  324,  in  public  affairs,  360,  as    to 


preaching  against  evil  practices,  361 ; 
spiritual  office  of,  370.  See  Preach- 
er, p.  701. Mitchel,  John,  pro- 
phecy 011,266. Monarchies,  ex- 
citements in,  contrasted  with  United 

States,     5S5. Moral     principles, 

sacrifices      for,       312. Moulton, 

Frank,  confidence  in,  496,  497  ;  let- 
ter to,  June,  1873,  515  ;  on  letter 
from,  518  ;    wife    of,  opposition    to, 

560. Mount    Pleasant    Institute, 

enters,  93  ;  mathematics  at,  94,  100; 
elocution  at,  95  ;  fecollections  of  W. 
P.  Fitzgerald  and  J.  W.  Lovell,  94, 
95  ;  chaplain  of,  rebukes  H.  W. 
Beecher,  96  ;  life  at,  97  ;  studies  at, 
97,  100,  101  ;  religious  experiences 
at,  97-102  ;  Bible  work  at,  99,  100  ; 
troubles  at,  102  ;  on  card-playing  at, 
102  ;  visit  to,  in  1849,  107  ;  his  char- 
acter  while    at    Institute,    108. 

Mourning,  on  outward  symbols  of, 
676  ;  Prussian  queen,  on  tomb  of  a, 

677. Music,    early   work   in,   92, 

124,  138,  139,  144 ;  church  music, 
on  old  methods  of,  363.  reform  in, 
365;  "Plymouth  Collection,"  com- 
pilation of,  363-366  ;  hymns,  views 
on,  366,  367  ;  music-writers,  ac- 
quaintance with,  368,369  ;  at  prayer- 
meeting,    378  ;  organ,  on  value  of, 

600. Name    of,  its    source,    41  ; 

names  bestowed  upon,  613. Na- 
tion  above   party,    577. Nature, 

love  for,  32,  33,  59,  74,  96,  acquired 
by  study,  394  ;  religious  impressions 
connected   with,   77  ;    study  of,   for 

preaching,    596,  614,  615. Navy, 

American,  on  moral   defect   in,  355. 

Negroes,    feeling    toward,    how 

influenced,  66  ;  fugitiye,  on  help  to, 
240,  241,  323,  on  return  of,  252  ; 
on  ostracism  of,  247  ;  on  treatment 
of,  by  omnibuses,  247,  248  ;  on  free- 
dom being  given  to  eight,  263  ;  treat- 
ment of,  at  North,  303  ;  on  slaves 
liberated  by  army,  323  ;  on  benefits 
to,  of  restoration  of  South,  463,  467, 
473. Newell,  Constantine.  affec- 
tion for,  104-106. New  England 

stock,  a  product  of,  25,  26. "  No- 
ble," anecdote  of,  290. North- 
bridge,  Mass.,  teaching  at,  130. 

Northern  merchants,  on  boycott  of, 
247. Norwich,  N.  Y.,  impres- 
sions of,  389. "  Norwood,"  quot- 
ed. 88  ;  published,  479. Observa- 
tion, habit  of,  how    gained,    32. 

Optimism,    definition    of,     585, 


INDt  X. 


?  '" 


Or.itonc.il  power-,  imperceptible  in 
youth,  -o. — -Ordinances,  church, 
view  oi,  (x>9. Ordination,  exam- 
ination for,  161,  165,  [66;  Old 
School,  refuses  to  subscribe  to,   101, 

ioj.  166;    ordained,   163,    i(>7. 

I Original  -in,  on  doctrine  ol,  607. 

Orthodoxy,    definition   of,    606;  on 

tests  of,  606,  607. Paris,   visit  to, 

in  1^50,  346  ;  art-galleries  of,  howaf- 
fected  by.  310-34S,  349;  Vicksburg, 
hear- of  fall  of,  while  visiting,  405, 
effect  on  Southerners  in,  406. Par- 
ker controversy,  peacemaker  in, 
259;  results,  260  ;  letters  on,  261, 
262. Parker,  Theodore,  con- 
demned for  as-ociating   with,    3S0  ; 

tribute   to,    381. Party,  political, 

on    blind    subservience    to,  577  ;    on 

redemption  of  a,  581. Pastorates, 

short,  opposed  to.  180. Patriotism 

of,  where  nurtured,  35  ;  strength  of, 

416. Paul,   St.,   compared    with, 

533.589. Peace  (1861),  denoun- 
ces terms  of,  310,  311. Peek- 
skill.  N.  Y.,  farm  at,  383  ;  descrip- 
tion of,  619,  620;  cottage  at,  620  ; 
improvements  made,  old  apple-tree, 
621,  622;  products  of,  623;  early 
crops  at.  rivalry  over,  623,  624  ; 
Turner,  T.  J.,  outwitted  by  Mr. 
Beecher,  624,  thrifty  nature  of,  626; 
flowers  at,  626;  his  "work"  at, 
627,  628  ;  new  house  at,  628-630, 
chimney  of,  as  a  look-out,  629, 
decoration  of,  630  ;  trees  and  shrubs 
at,  630,  632  ;  benefits  derived  from, 
632  ;  insects  at,  gratitude  to,  632, 
634;  fowls  at,  634,  635.  the  patent 
hatcher.  635,  636;  cattle  at,  636 ; 
bees  at,  636,  637  ;  dogs  at,  637,  re- 
marks on  "Tommy,"  638. Per- 
severance, thoughts  on,  147. Per- 
sonal attack,  averse  to,  354. Pes- 
simism, definition  of,  585. Phil- 
lips,   Wendell,    in    Brooklyn,    work 

for,  246. Phrenology,  acceptance 

of,  130;  lecturing  on,  138.  144. 

"Pinky,"  buying  freedom  of,  294- 
297. Plurality  of  wives  of  ances- 
tors,   remark   on,    20. Plymouth 

Church,  invited  to  come  to.  his  an- 
swer, 210-213;  called  to,  214;  ac- 
cepts call,  reasons,  214,  215  ;  failure 
at,  predicted,  217  ;  first  sermon  at, 
218  ;  slavery,  labors  at,  against,  219- 
221  ;  installed,  221  ;  success  at,  222, 
225  ;  revivals  at,  work  in,  222,  375, 
391  ;  prayer  at,    sample   of   a,  228  ,  \ 


prayei  meeting,  lecture,  sociable  at, 
229-231  ;  policy  toward-,  232  ;  re- 
trospect, a  (1863),  337  ;  prayer-meet- 
ingS  at,  daily,  37<>,  influence  of, 
377;  on  income  of,  379;  organ  ;it. 
on  a  new,  382  ;  on  flowers  in,  393  ; 
on  Silver  Wedding  of,  remarks  at, 
481-484;  generosity  of,  in  Consptr 
acy.  505  ;  tribute  to,  578  ;  result  of 
work  in,  601  ;  welcome  at,  in  1886, 
672  ;  funeral  services  at,  678  ;  me- 
morial service  at,  680. "Ply- 
mouth Collection,"  history  of.  363- 
366  ;  terms  of  publication  of,  364  ; 
on     alleged     omission     of    Watts's 

hymns  from,  368. Political  secret 

societies,  on,  362. Politics,  in  the 

army,  indignant  at,  444  ;  on  honesty 

and    morality    in,     583. Prayer, 

early  love  for,  97,  100 ;  sample  of, 
228  ;  on  extemporaneous,  371  ;  at 
prayer-meeting,  378  ;  reply  to  re- 
quest for  copy  of  a,  656. Prayer- 
meetings,     method    of    conducting, 

37°.  377  i  on  laughter  in,    377 

Preacher,  his  rank  as  a,  588  ;  quali- 
ties as  a,  589  ;  parental  faith  his  first 
incentive,  590  ;  early  training-school, 
590  ;  temperament  as  a,  591  ;  high 
estimate  of  a,  592  ;  early  life  as  a,  a 
happy  period,  593  ;  call  to  a,  two 
essentials  to,  594  ;  discouraged,  ad- 
vice to  a,  595  ;  should  consecrate 
every   gift,    595.     See   Ministers,  p. 

700. Preaching,     beginnings    of, 

130;  first  in  the  West,  149  ;  natural- 
ism in,  164  ;  to  preach  Christ  only, 
167,  178,  193,  227  ;  first  real,  at  In- 
dianapolis, 187  ;  versatility  in,  193  ; 
courage  in,  incidents  of,  194,  195  ; 
means  of  relief  from,  198  ;  spirit- 
uality in,  one  source  of,  391;  estimate 
of,  588  ;  on  future  scope  of,  592  ; 
theory  of,  595  ;  involuntary  prepara- 
tion for,  596;  influence  of  his,  on 
theology,  602  ;  manner  in,  an  ex- 
ample,   605  ;    preparation  for,    597- 

600,  655. Precious    stones,  love 

for,  soothing  effect  of,  649-651 ;  relief 
derived  from,  at  Liverpool,  650;  rea- 
son for  love  of,  650,  651. Pride, 

early  struggles  with,  102. Private 

Journal  of,  at  Amherst,  109  ;  con- 
tents of,  109,  no. Profanity,  on  a 

case  of,  642. Prussian  queen,  on 

tomb  of  a,  677. Pulpit,  on  free- 
dom of,  248-252  ;  duty  of,  as  to  war- 
tax,  324,  in  public  affairs,  360,  361  ; 
as  a  popular  educator,  362;  prepara- 


;o2 


INDEX, 


tion  for,  655. ''Puritan  peniten- 
tiary," not  born  in  a,  57. Rats, 

at  Litchfield,  description  of,  63. 

Rebellion,  on  enlistment  of  son  for, 
310  ;  interest  of,  in  organizing  mili- 
tia, 314  ;  sacrifices  for,  316  ;  Four- 
teenth Regiment,  equipment  of,  316, 
sermon  to,  317  ;  Sixty-seventh  Re- 
giment, equipment  of,  317,  488  ; 
Union  soldier,  on  duty  of,  317,  318  ; 
Bull  Run  defeat,  on,  350  ;  on  Ad- 
ministration's inactivity  and  mis- 
management, 324,  325,  328,  329,  on 
duty  of,  330,  331  ;  God's  leadership 
in,  prayer  for,  332  ;  Union  success 
in,  confident  of,  333  ;  Confederacy 
and  Administration  contrasted,  335  ; 
state  of,  in  1863,  397 ;  enormous 
army,  should  be  crushed  by  an, 
443  ;  troops  in,  should  be  no  dis- 
tinction between,  443  ;  end  of,  joy 
at,  451,  455  ;  brought  on  by  South- 
ern politicians,  454. Reconstruc- 
tion of  South,  on  President's  duty  in 
(1862),  333  ;  speech  on,  458  ;  letter 
on,  to  Pres.  Johnson,  460  ;  on  bene- 
fits of,  to  colored  race,  463  ;  on 
military   government    in,  465,  466. 

Recreation,  mental,  how  taken, 

394,  395. Religion,  meaning  of, 

642. Religious  experience  of,  at 

Litchfield,  65-69.  76-81;  at  Mt. 
Pleasant,  97-102;  at  Amherst,  119-^ 
121;  at  Lane,  154,  155;  spiritual  ex- 
altation (18571,    373  ;    influence  of 

early,     604. Republican     party, 

work  for,  in  1S56,  289,  in  i860, 
304,  305,  in  1864,  571  ;  esteem  of, 
471  ;  in  sympathy  with  (1866),  473  ; 
favors  election  of  members  of,  to 
Congress  (1866),  475;  corruption  in, 
labors  against,  574  ;  reasons  for  not 
working  for,  581-583;  still  a  member 

of,   584. Republics,   on  political 

excitement  in,   583. Reputation, 

on  posthumous,  557. Responsibi- 
lity, on  individual,    219. Retort, 

quickness  of,  252,  253. Revivals, 

at  Litchfield,  81 ;  at  Mt.  Pleasant, 
98  ;  at  Amherst,  119  ;  at  Terre 
Haute,  19T,  192  ;  at  Plymouth,  222, 
231,    391  ;    method    of   conducting, 

375-378. Romance  of,    an  early, 

103. Ruskin,   John,    tribute    to, 

394. Sadness,  a  tendency  to,  345, 

346,    500,   556. Sailor,  on  needs 

of  the,     355. St.   Louis   Library 

Association,  asked  to  lecture  before, 
3S9  ;  matters  to  be  avoided,  his  re- 


ply,   390. Salisbury,    Conn.,    on 

beauties  of,   356. Salvation,   on, 

379- Sarah  — ,    buying     freedom 

of,    298-300. Saviour,    vision   of 

sufferings  of,    377. Scepticism,  a 

touch  of,  154,  164. Scholar,  de- 
sires  to   be  a,   593. School  life, 

beginning  of,  49,  50  ;  experiences  at 
district  school,  51-53,  at  Mr.  Brace's 
and  Mr.  Langdon's,  72,  74,  at  Cath- 
arine Beecher's,  amusing  incidents, 
75,  76  ;  progress  in  his  studies,  88  ; 

at  Mt.  Pleasant,  93-108. Schools, 

the    two    Presbyterian,    views     on, 

163. Scott,  Walter,  early  critique 

on,  145. Sea-life,  determines  on, 

89  ;  to  study  for  it,  90,  93  ;  design 
abandoned,  99. Seasons,  allego- 
rical view  of ,  616 Sectarianism, 

on,  611,  612. Sermons,  illustra- 
tions for,  how  acquired,  32 ;  his 
earliest,  130;  first  Western,  149; 
first  at  Lawrenceburg,  173  ;  record 
book  of,  179,  192  ;  at  Indianapolis, 
186,  187 ;  modelled  on  Apostles', 
188  ;  proper  aim  of,  188  ;  sermon  on 
"  Prodigal  Son,"  189  ;  first  sermon 
in  Plymouth,  218,  outline  of,  229  ; 
issued  in  book  form,  479  ;  Thanks- 
giving, custom  in,  584  ;  note-books 
on,  596  ;  method  of  preparing, 
597-600,  655.  remarks  on,  655  ;  the 
one  at  Charleston,  599,  at  Stamford, 
599  ;  method  of  delivering,  600 ; 
fruits  of,  602  ;  must  be  delivered 
immediately,    656  ;      trial    sermon, 

687. Seward,  Wm.    H.,   opinion 

of,  305. Shakspsre,  early  criti- 
cism on,  146. "Shining  Shore," 

a  favorite  with,  366,  379. Sick- 
ness,  thoughts   on,    147  ;   his    final, 

675. Slavery,  work  done  against, 

at  Amherst,  119,  at  Indianapolis, 
185,  195-197  ;  course  on,  defined, 
217-220,  242  ;  on  Church's  timidity 
towards,  221  ;  Fugitive  Slave  Law, 
articles  on,  236-238,  240-244  ;  lead- 
er against,  an  acknowledged,  244  ; 
pulpit  labor  against,  defence  of, 
24S-252  ;  tenacity  of  anti-slavery, 
on  cause  of,  257,  instrumentalities 
for,  use  of,  266  ;  Constitution,  bal- 
lot, Church,  as  forces  against,  267  ; 
Christianity  against,  on  power  of, 
268  ;  battle  against,  religious  ele- 
ment in,  269,  270  ;  on  treatment  of, 
3°3>  331  J  military  question,  a,  331  ; 
system  of,  requires  ignorance,  417. 
Sleep,  habits    as    to,    654. 


tNDEX. 


South,  not  safe  to  visit,  426  ;  on 
reconstruction  of,  453,  45S.  4<>i  ;  on 

kindness  to  people  of  (1865),  4^4  ; 
on  effect  of  exclusion  of,  459,  46S, 
473  ;  affection  for,  400  ;  (aith  in 
honor  of,  463  ;  on  restoration  of 
States  of,  465-46S,  Northern  fear 
of,  466,  467  ;  to  be  effected  by 
Republican  party,  477  ;  on  re- 
sults to,  of  elections  of  1S84,   5S7  ; 

mediation  for,  612. Speculative, 

early  aptitude  for  the,   78,    79. 

Spiritualism,   disbelief   in,    363. 

Sports,  youthful,  superiority  in,  85. 
10S. Stanton,  Edwin  M.,  en- 
couraging note  to,  reply,  447  ;  re- 
quested by,  to  go  to  Charleston,  449  ; 
telegram  from,  on  Sheridan's  suc- 
cess, 450 Stockton,  Coi  ,  recom 

mends  to    Lincoln,   443. Storrs, 

Dr.  R.  S.,  reasons  for  not  confiding 
in,    520  ;    attempted    reconciliation 

with,    561. Stowe,    Rev.    Calvin 

E.,  indebtedness  to,  137  ;  a  joke  on, 
141. Strength  of  paternal  ances- 
try   of.     19. Studies,    in    youth, 

backward  in,  70,  74,  102. Study, 

on  wrong  method  of,  643. Style, 

literary,  remarks  on,  644. Sum- 
ner-Brooks affair,  speech  on,  287  ; 
article  on,  288. Sunday,  influen- 
ces of,   when  a  boy,  62. Synod 

meeting,     description    of,    152. 

Tasks  of,  in  boyhood,  64. Taxes 

for  war,  on,   323  ;  Christian's  duty 

as    to,  324. Tea,  effect  of,    652. 

Temperance,  early  work  in,  130, 

138,  144,  147  ;  in  Lawrenceburg, 
185;  "teetotal"  at  Oxford,  Eng., 
345  ;  to  his  daughter,  on  practice  of, 
3S4  ;    use   of   liquors    as   medicine, 

652,  653. *'  Temple    Melodies," 

compilation  of    363  ;  name  omitted 

from  title  of,  364. Terre  Haute, 

Ind.,  reminiscence  of,  190-192. 

Theologian,  as  a,  602,  603  ;  esti- 
mate of,  603. Theology,  pro- 
poses to  find  a  universal,  570  ;  his 
influence  on,  604 ;  theological  dis- 
putes, hatred  of,  604,  605  ;  dislike 
of,  reason  for,  606  ;  future,  on  the, 
609. Thirteenth  Regiment,  ac- 
cepts chaplaincy  of,  660  ;  sword  a 
source  of  trouble,  662  ;  military  or- 
ders, experience  with,  662,  663  ; 
title  in,  663. Tides,  youthful  de- 
finition of,  76. Tilton,  Theodore, 

affection  for,  489,  500  ;  first  charge 
of,  493  ;  called  on  to  leave  Brooklyn 


by,  494,  503 ;  efforts  to  reclaim, 
495,  4<>7  ;  opinion  of,  to  Bo  wen, 
503  ;  Self •accusations of  unintention- 
al wrong  to,  505  ;  moral  conduct  of, 
deceived  in,  51  9  ;  urges  him  to 
break  with  Mrs.  Woodhull,  510;  on 
bad  traits  of.  516  ;  promise  to,  as  to 
Mrs.  Tilton,  517  ;  payment  to,  of 
$5,000,  519  ;  openly  charged  by,  527; 
charge  chai  ged  by,  532;  civil  suit 
by.  533- Tilton,  Mrs.  T.,  advice- 
asked  by,  as  to  separation,  502;  let- 
ter to,  Feb.  17.  1871,  507;  letter  to, 

on     Woodhull      scandal,      513. 

Tools,       readiness      with,     64 

Travel,   foreign,   religion   weakened 

by,  384. Trinity,  on  doctrine  of, 

607. Tripartite  agreement,    part 

in,  512;  honored  by  him  alone,  520. 

Trouble,  on   surmounting,  374; 

how  affected  by,  499 Trouting, 

letter  on,  357. Trust  in  God,  on, 

379;    how    strengthened,    616,    617. 

Truth,     desire     for,     212. 

"Tutor's   Delight,"    the,     116. 

Tweed  frauds,  denunciations  of,  572. 

Twin    sons   of,    birth    of,    352; 

death  of,  357. Undenominational 

spirit  of,  163,  167,227,483,611. 

Unitarian  reaction  in  Massachusetts, 
on  the,  83;  Sabbath-school,  on  ostra- 
cism of  a,    355,   356. Vicksburg 

and  Gettysburg,  on  victories  of,  405, 

406. War,    views   on,    312,   313. 

398;    Christians    in,    on  bearing  of, 

314;    with    England,    on,    322. 

Welsh  blood  in,  source  of,  19. 

White  Mountains,  summer  services 

in,  660 W'idowerhood,  possible, 

remark  on,  20. Woman,  reve- 
rence   for,     554. Writing-paper, 

dislike   of   foreign,  387. Young, 

fondness  for,  184,  185,  203;  "  Lec- 
tures to  Young  Men,"  199. 

Beecher,  Mrs.  H.  W.,  an  accident  to, 
385,  determination  of,  386;  Beech- 
er's,  Henry  W.,  letter  to,  on  his 
health,  653;  Lawrenceburg,  de- 
scription of  pastorate  at.  172,  of 
housekeeping  at.  174;  retrospect  by, 
of  Mr.  Beecher's  youth,  1 21-127; 
wedding  of,  170,  journey  to  West, 
171. 

Beecher,  John,  a  pioneer  of  New 
Haven  Colony,  19. 

Beecher,  Joseph,  reminiscence  of,  19; 
strength  of,  20. 

Beecher,  Nathaniel,  reminiscence  of, 
19;  strength  of,  20. 


704 


INDEX. 


Beecher,  Rev.  Lyman,  affection  of.  for 

his   wife,    26. Beecher,    Roxana. 

opinion    of,    24,     26. Birtn    and 

childhood  of,  18. Boston,  re- 
moval  to,   82. Character  of,  17, 

26,  27. Jnildren  of,  their  regi- 
men, 46;  tulip-bulbs,  adventure 
with,  47;  at  their  mother's  death, 
49;  some  amusements  of,  the  cat's 
funeral,  56;  treacment  of,  by  their 
father,  57;  fishing  trip,  a,  spoiled, 
58;  teaching  of,  by  their  father 
58;  father's  spirit,  influenced  by,  68. 
— —Cincinnati,    household   at,  138- 

140;     family    meeting    at,    142. 

College,    preparation    for,     19. 

Courtship  of,   26. Death  of,  H. 

\V.    Beecher  on,  681. Duelling, 

effect      of      sermon      on,      27. 

East    Hampton,  life    and  labors  at, 

27  ;    departure   from,    29. Farm 

life,  disgusted  with,  18. Finan- 
cial difficulties,  faith  under,  117. 

Indomitable  spirit    of,  infused  into 

his  children,  68,  69 Kindness  of, 

abused,    remark    on,    659. Lane 

Seminary,  president  of,  136,  160  ; 
instruction  at,  method  of,  137  ;  her- 
esy, charged  with,  151,  160;  union 
of  churches,  wish  for,  160. Let- 
ters of,  to  Roxana  Foote,  26,27. 

Litchfield,  called  to,  29  ;  dwelling 
at,  38,  62,  rats  in,  6j  ;  household  at, 
38,  H.  \V.  Beecher  on,  553  ;  ideal 
home,  an,  40  ;  labors  at,  made  a 
mental  stimulus,  58  ;  visit  to,  in 
^57,  373- Marriage  of,  to  Rox- 
ana Foote,  27  ;  to  Harriet  Porter, 
53. Missionary  societies  in  Con- 
necticut    formed    by,    42. New 

School,  battle  for,  151. Ortho- 
doxy,    zeal      for,     82. Plymouth 

Church,  at  a  revival  in,  376. Re- 
ligious   temperament    of,      26. 

Shrewdness  of,  in  H.  W.  Beecher's 
sea  project,  90. Society  for  Pre- 
vention of  Vice  in  Connecticut 
formed  by,  42. Synod,  modera- 
tor of,   152. Temperance,  action 

on,  42. Unitarian  reaction,  pro- 
test against,  82. United  States  in 

1813,     remarks     on,    41. Wood- 
spell,  the  yearly,  58. 
Beecher,  Roxana,  accomplishments  of, 

23 Ancestry      of,     21,     22 

Beecher's,  H.  W.,  estimate  of,  128  ; 
her  influence  on,  67,  554. Court- 
ship   of,   26. Death   of.    48. 

East  Hampton,  L.    L,  life    in,  27. 


Education     of,    how    acquired, 

23. Episcopal   Church,   member 

of,  23,  24.-  — Letters  of,  to  Lyman 

Beecher,    26. Love    of,    for    her 

husband,  26. Parents  of,  loyal  to 

king,    23. Personal     characteris- 
tics of,  23,   24. Recollections  of. 

47 Religious     temperament   of. 

24,  26. School  of ,  in  East  Hamp- 
ton, 28. Science,  interest  in,  40. 

Trials  of,  some,  40. 

Beecher,  Rev.  Thomas  K  ,  reminiscen- 
ces by,  of  Henry  and  Charles,  90, 
138. 

Benton,  Lot,  Lyman  Beecher  brought 
up  by,  18. 

Big  Bantam  Lake  (Litchfield),  31. 

Blaine,  James  G.,  H.  W.  Beecher 
on,  576,  577. 

Blake,  G.  Faulkner,  in  ransom  of 
slaves,  2  )4. 

Boscobel — see  Peekskill. 

Boston,  Mass.,  bells  of,  83  ;  Beecher's, 
H.  W.,  life  in,  90-92,  adventure  with 
cross  woman  of,  118,  rumors  in, 
against, 534,  546,  rumors  refuted,  535; 
reception  in,  at  lecture,  565;  Beech- 
er, Lyman,  removes  to,  82,  dwelling 
at,  85  ;  feuds  of,  juvenile,  85  ; 
Navy- Yard  of,  H.  W.  Beecher's  en- 
thusiasm over,  84.  purloins  cannon- 
ball  from,  S7  ;  ships  of,  impress  H. 
W.  Beecher,  84 ;  sport  of,  a  juve- 
nile, 85. 

Bowen,  Henry  C,  H.  W.  Beecher's 
dispute  with,  as  to  accounts,  489, 
scandalous  hints  concerning,  490, 
hatred  of,  intensified  by  resignation, 
492,  bitter  enemy  to,  494,  promises 
support  to,  504,  renews  charges 
against,  542,  proposed  committee 
on,  543  ;  card  of,  on  black-listing, 
247  ;  Conspiracy,  part  in,  493  ;  Ply- 
mou'h  Church,  dropped  by,  543  ; 
Tilton,  Theodore,  early  troubles 
with,  491,  reasons  for  reducing,  503, 
charged  by,  with  scandalous  stories, 
511  ;  tripartite  agreement,  part  in. 
512. 

Brice,  Pomona,  help  afforded    to,  293. 

Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  H.  W.  Beecher 
called  to,  187,  210-216,  speech  at, 
on  return  from  England,  438,  in 
answer  to  Wendell  Phillips,  458  ; 
Common  Council  of,  tender  recep- 
tion to  Mr.  Beecher,  672  ;  Four- 
teenth Regiment,  equipment  of,  316  ; 
martial  spirit  in,  in  1861,  314  ;  ser- 
vices in,  at  death   of    Mr.  Beecher, 


INDEX. 


JOS 


680;  slaves  ransomed  in,  292-300; 
Thirteenth    Regiment  of,  elects   Mi. 

Beechei  chaplain,  I  I 

cs,     Preston    S  ,    attack    of,    on 
Charles  Sumn<  Mr.    Beecher 

on,  a -7.  a  - 

d,  John,  II.  W.  Beecher  on,  301, 

302  ;  name  of,  a  war-cry,  301  ; 
sketch  of,  300. 

Brussels,  Belgium,  visit  to,  of  Mr 
her,  403. 

Buchanan,  Pres.,  administration  of, 
305  ;  election  of,  291  ;  fast-day  of, 
307. 

Budington,  Rev.  W.  I.,  Advisory 
Council  (1S76),  refuses  to  attend, 
544  ;  Beecher,  H.  W.,  enmity  to, 
521  ;  church  of,  divided  on  calling 
council,  523,  protest  on,  524,  letter 
to,  from  Mr.  Beecher,  on  protest, 
526. 

Bull  Run  defeat,  H.  \V.  Beecher  on, 
320  ;  effect  of,  at  North,  319,  320. 

Burgess,  Deacon,  annually  nominated 
for  Legislature,  22. 

Burr,  Betsey,  38. 

Calhoun,  John  C,  on  Compromise 
Bill,  236. 

California,  admission  of,  as  State,  235. 

Calvinism,  H.  W.  Beecher's  early 
training  in,  70,  77  ;  Beecher's,  Ly- 
man, zeal  for,  82  ;  reaction  against, 
in  Massachusetts,  82,  S3. 

Catlin,  Dr.  (Litchfield),  reminiscence 
of,  36. 

Charleston,  S.  C,  exercises  at,  in 
1865,  addressed  by  Mr.  Beecher, 
447-454  ;  his  sermon  at,  how  pre- 
pared, 599. 

Chestnut  Hill  (Litchfield),  30. 

Children,  H.  W.  Beecher's  love  for, 
639;  method  of  whipping,  one,  640; 
advice  to  his  children  on  self-help, 
religion,  Bible-reading,  study,  health 
and  duty,  choosing  profession,  lite- 
rary style,  641-644. 

Christian  Union,  H.  W.  Beecher 
editor  of,  491  ;  formation  of,  491. 

Cincinnati,  O.,  in  1S34.  153;  Beech- 
er's, H    W.,  lecture  in,  in  1861,  309.  I 

Citizen,  Brooklyn,  on  burial  of  Mr. 
Beecher,  680. 

Clay,  Henry,  Compromise  measure  of, 
235,  Beecher,  H.  W.,  on,  237  ;  Om- 
nibus Bill  of,  236. 

Cleveland,  Grover,  slanders  against, 
Mr.  Beecher  on,  577,  578  ;  support- 
ed by,  in  1884,  577-580. 


land,  O.,  army  and  navy  conven- 
tion at.  object,  461,   464  ;  invitation 
of,  to  M r.  Bee<  her,  461. 
Cleveland  letters,  history  of,  4'  1 

invitation  to  Mr.  Beecher  by  conven- 
tion. 461  ;  reply,  465,  public  clamor 
against,  4(,2  ;  second  letter,  472. 
Cobden,  Richard,  on  English  sympa- 
thy for  American  Union,  440. 
Compromise  measures,  acceptance  of, 
by  political  parties,  257  ;  Beech- 
er, H.  W.,  on,  236-238,  306,  421  ; 
evil  of,  235  ;  introduction  of,  in 
Congress,  233  ;  object  of,  235  ;  pas- 
sage of,  23S  ;  popular  endorsement 
of,  257,  265. 

Congregational  Association,  H.  W. 
Beecher  resigns  from,  567,  statement 
to,  568  ;  resolution  of,  on  resigna- 
tion, 568. 

Congregational  Church,  proposed  litur- 
gy for.  370;  Beecher,  H.  \\\,  on  ex- 
temporaneous prayer  in,  371 ;  of  Eng- 

.  land,  favors  Confederacy,  400,  402, 
Mr.  Beecher  on,  401  ;  Mr.  Beecher's 
estimate  of,  610. 

Connecticut,  Congregational  churches 
of,  withdraws  aid  from,  42  ;  Society 
for  Prevention  of  Vice,  missionary 
societies  in,  42  ;  temperance  ques- 
tion, 42. 

Conspiracy,  the,  H.  W.  Beecher's  ac- 
count of,  495-520,  on  malignity  of, 
546  ;  beginning  of,  493,  494  ;  Bos- 
ton, rumors  in,  concerning,  534, 
Mr.  Beecher's  defence  at,  535  ; 
Bowen's,  H.  C,  part  in,  493  ;  civil 
suit,  the,  533;Moulton,  Mrs  ,  against 
Mr.  Beecher,  534  ;  cost  of,  to  Mr. 
Beecher,  549  ;  end  of,  562  ;  "  False 
Secret,"  the,  563  ;  history  of,  488- 
563  ;  investigating  committee  on, 
499,  527-530,  members  of,  Mr. 
Beecher's  letter  to,  528  ;  Moulton, 
Frank,  joins,  494  ;  tripartite  agree- 
ment in,  496,  497,  511,  512  ;  Wood- 
hull  scandal  in,  513. 

Cowper,  William,  style  of,  644. 

Cuba,  annexation  of,  280,  282  ;  ex- 
pedition against,  281. 

Cunard  steamers,  H.  W.  Beecher  on 
bigotry  on,  350,  351. 

Cutler,  W.  T.,  in  Mr.  Beecher's  call 
East,  210,  213  ;  letter  to,  of  Mr. 
Beecher,  210. 

Daniel,  Samuel,  poem  of,  quoted,  134. 
Dayton,    George,    neighbor  at   Peeks- 
kill,  623. 


yo6 


INDEX. 


Democratic  party,  divisions  in,  in 
1863,  398  ;  losses  of,  in  1854,  273  ; 
success  of,  in  1852,  257,  in  1856, 
291. 

Douglas,  Stephen  A  ,  resolution  of,  to 
repeal  Compromise,  272. 

Douglass,  Fred.,  invited  to  attend  Ply- 
mouth Church,  248. 

Died  Scott  decision,  the,  281  ;  logical 
results  of,  282. 

Eagle,  Brooklyn,  Tilton's  infamous  ar- 
ticle in  (1873),  514. 

East  Hampton,  L.  I.,  Beecher  family 
in,  27,  departure  from,  29  ;  school 
in,  of  Roxana  Beecher,  28. 

Edinburgh,  Scotland,  H.  W.  Beecher's 
speech  in,  419-422. 

Editor,  H.  W.  Beecher  on  power  of  an, 
321  ;  editorial  articles  of,  sources, 
325,  their  characteristic  features,  325, 
326. 

Edmonson  sisters,  freedom  of,  pur- 
chased, 292,  293. 

Election  of  1884,  H.  W.  Beecher's 
work  in,  575-583  ;  review  of,  585, 
586. 

Ellsworth,  Col  ,  H.  W.  Beecher  on 
death  of,  313. 

Emancipation,  H.  W.  Beecher  de- 
mands, 331,332,  333;  Proclamation 
of,  article  on,  336. 

Emery,  S.  Hopkins,  reminiscences 
by,  of  H.  W.  Beecher,  114. 

Emigration  societies,  to  aid  fight  in 
Kansas,  279. 

England  :  America,  introduced  slavery 

into,    431. Beecher's,     H.     W., 

visit  to,  in  1850,  339-349  ;  impres- 
sions of  Warwick,  Kenilworth,  340, 
of  Caesar's  and  Guy's  Towers,  341, 
of  Stratford-on-Avon,  342,  344,  of 
Oxford,  Bodleian  Library,  344,  345. 
Trip  to,  in  1863,  396-436;  speeches 
in  Manchester,  408-414,  in  Liver- 
pool, 422-432,  in  London,  432-436; 
effect  of  speeches,  436,  441.  Visit 
to,  in  1886,  665-672  ;  Westminster 
Abbey,  visit  to,  669  ;  on  customs  at 
public  meetings  in,  670  ;  address  in 

City    Temple,    671. Classes    in, 

upper,  favor  Confederacy,  339,  400, 
438,    reasons     for.    439  ;     laboring 

classes   favor   North,    400,  440. 

Confederate    cruisers,    building   of, 

stopped,      410.  Congregational 

clergy  in,  favor  South,  400,  402  ;  H. 

W.  Beecher  on,  401  Parliament 

of,    willing   to    declare    for    South, 


40°- Product  of  institutions   of, 

in     New     England,    25. Public 

meetings    in,    customs  at,   670. 

Queen  of,  a  friend  to  North  439. 

Confederacy,  results  in,  of  its  suc- 
cess, 429  ;  feeling  in  favor  of,  uni- 
versal, 438. Vicksburg  and  Get- 
tysburg,  effect   of  victories  at,  406, 

441- War  with,    H.   W.  Beecher 

on,     322,    412. United     States, 

reasons  for  wishing  disruption  of, 
402,  403,  439,  440  ;  material  reasons 
for  supporting  Northern  cause,  428, 
429. 
Express,  New  York,  on  Fremont's 
marriage,  291. 

"  False  Secret,"  the,  563. 

Fast-day   Buchanan's,  307. 

Field,  Thomas  P.,   reminiscences  by, 

of  H.  W.  Beecher,  96,  113,  115. 
Fitzgerald,  W.   P  ,  H.   W.   Beecher's 

instructor  in  mathematics,  94. 
Foote,  James,  notice  of,  21. 
Foote,  Nathaniel,  notice  of,  21. 
Foote,  Roxana — see  Beecher,  Roxana. 
Foote,    Roxana  Ward,  names  H.  W. 

Beecher,  41  ;   notice  of,  22. 
Foote,  Samuel,  reminiscence  of,  38. 
Fourteenth   Regiment,   formation    of, 

316  ;    H.   W.   Beecher's  sermon  to, 
^317. 

Freedmen — see  Negives. 
Freedom  of  speech,  H.  W.  Beecher  on, 

243-245  ;  on  stifling   of,  in    Kansas, 

284. 
Fremont,  John    C,  marriage   of,  used 

against   him,    290  ;    nominated     for 

President,  288  ;  religion  of,  291. 

Garrison,  William  I,.,  H.  W.  Beecher 
on,  267. 

Gettysburg,  victory  at,  effect  in  Eng- 
land, 406. 

Glasgow,  Scotland,  H.  W.  Beecher's 
speech  in,  in  1863,  414-419. 

Gould,  Judge,  law-school  of,  at  Litch- 
field, 34,  37  ;  reminiscence  of,  36. 

Grant,  Gen.,  and  Mr.  Beecher's  mili- 
tary titles,  663. 

Guilford,  Conn.,  22,  23. 

Hall,  Rev.  Charles  H.,  friendship  of, 

for    H.  W.   Beecher,    677  ;  preaches 

at  his  death,  678. 
Hanks,  S.  W.  ,  reminiscence  by,  of  H. 

W.  Beecher,  114. 
Harrington,  Moody,  a  religious  helper 

to  H.  W.  Beecher,  120,  121. 


IND, 


Kaven,   John,  reminiscence  by,  of  II. 

\v.  Beecher,  1 1 3. 
Hopkinton,    M.i>s.,    II.  W.    Beecher's 

school  at,  1  29 

Hubbard,  Aunt  Maty,  38;  death  of, 
42. 

Independent,  the,  H.  \V.  Beecher's 
early  contributions  to,  320,  488, 
editor  of,  321,  4S8.  editorials  in 
(1862),  322-336,  assailed  in,  for 
Cleveland  letters,  469,  491,  501  ; 
conduct  of,  protest  against,  491  ; 
influence  of,  early,  490  ;  purpose  of, 
321;  rivals  of,  491,  492;  Tilton, 
Theodore,  editor  of,  490,  resigns, 
4')2. 

Independent  Republicans,  H.  W. 
Beecher  on,  561,  583. 

Indianapolis,  Ind.,  H.  W.  Beecher 
called  to,  179,  1S1,  his  churches  at, 
181,  183,  departure  from,  216  ;  con- 
dition of,  in  1839,  181,  206;  railroad 
train  from,  the  first,  207,  216. 

Indians,  antiquities  of,  at  Litchfield, 
31  ;  Lyman  Beecher's  labors  among, 
27. 

Ingersoll,  Mrs.,  reminiscence  of,  72. 

Investigating  Committee  (in  Con- 
spiracy), asked  for,  by  Mr.  Beecher, 
52S  ;  report  of,  530. 

Ireland,  American  sympathy  for,  265. 

Johnson,  Pres  ,  plan  of,  as  to  recon- 
struction, 458,  H.  W.  Beecher  to, 
460 ;  course  of,  Northern  angd 
against,  462,  469-471. 

Jones,  Mr.,  part  of,  in  "  Temple  Melo- 
dies," 363,  364. 

Journal  of  Commerce,  New  York,  H. 
W.  Beecher's  criticism  on,  334. 

Kansas,  H.  W.  Beecher  on  the  con- 
test in,  283,  301;  Brown,  John,  in, 
300;  emigrants  to,  rush  of,  279,  H. 
W.  Beecher  on,  284;  forces  in,  op 
posing,  280  ;  freedom,  personal,  en 
dangered  in,  2S4  ;  governors  of,  de- 
posed, 2S2;  importance  of,  in  slavery 
contest,  277  ;  Lecompton  Constitu- 
tion, adoption  of,  278,  rejected  by 
the  people,  2S2;  Legislatures  of,  the 
two,  279,  2S0;  rifles  sent  to,  by  Mr. 
Beecher,  283,  286;  situation  in,  in 
1855,  278  ;  slave  laws  of,  278,  2S4  ; 
Topeka  Constitution,  adoption  of, 
279;  war  in,  beginning  of,  271,  deeds 
committed  in,  279,  results  of,  282, 
300. 


Kilbourne,  "  Ma'am,"  11  AY.  Beecher1! 

iir->t  teacher,  50. 
Kossuth,    Louis,    ->kcu  h    of,   \i-,it    to 

America,  250,  352. 

Landon,  Sheriff,  reminiscence  of,  37. 
Lane  Seminaiy,  Ohio,  Lyman    Beech 

er  president  of.  136,  gives  earnest 
tone  to,  137;  object  of,  136;  slavery 
question  at,  137. 

Langdon,  Mr.,  school  of,  attended  by 
H.W.  Beecher,  72;  teaching, method 
of,  74. 

Lawrenceburg,  Ind.,  II.  \V.  Beecher 
called  to,  157,  residence  at,  174,  176, 
success  at,  173,  176;  church  of,  inde- 
pendent, 162,  167 ;  description  of, 
158,   159. 

"  Lectures  to  Young  Men,"  purpose  of, 
200;  publishing  of,  201. 

Lecture-room  talks  of  II.  W.  Beecher: 
Conversion  of  Philippian  Jailer 
(1S58),  376;  Division  in  Presbyterian 
Church,  163;  Emancipation  Procla- 
mation, 337;  Love  to  Enemies,  311. 

Lenox,  Mass.,  H.  W.  Beechers  farm 
at»  359.  3°°>  6l8J  residence  at,  given 
up,  372. 

Leopold,  King,  receives  H.W.  Beecher, 
suggests  compromise  in  Rebellion, 
404 ;  Mr.  Beecher's  advice  to,  on 
Mexico,  405. 

Letters  quoted:  Beecher,  H.  W.,  to 
Dr.  Bacon,  March,  1876,  560.  To 
Barnabas  Bates,  October  12,  1852, 
261.  To  Mrs.  Beecher,  May  17, 
1849,  IO°;  l873>  5°8;  on  his  health, 
654  To  Edward  Beecher,  July  II, 
1829,  99  ;  August,  1829,  100.  To 
William  Beecher.  1832,  129.  To 
Dr.  Budington,  1874,  526.  To  W. 
T.  Cutler,  December  15,  1846,  210. 
To  Richard  Hale,  October  12.  1852, 
261.  To  Indianapolis  Church,  Au- 
gust 12,  1847,  214.  To  Investigating 
Committee,  1874,  528.  To  R.  W. 
Landis,  October  12,  1852,  262.  To 
Frank  Moulton,  June,  1873,  5r5> 
To  Plymouth  Church,  August  19, 
1847,  215.  To  S.  Scoville,  on  Am- 
bition, 594.  To  St.  Louis  Library 
Association,  1859,  390.  To  Mrs. 
Tilton,  November,  1S72,  513.  To 
New  York  Tribune,  268,  269.  To 
Dr.  Tyng,  September  6,  1866,  470. 
To  his  sister,  1817,  50;  December 
24,  1828,  97  ;  March  1,  1830,  ior  ; 
1831,  117;  1837,  171.  To  his  daugh- 
ter,    November,     1853,    35$  !    June 


708 


INDEX. 


24,  1854,  358;  1859,  383.  384;  Feb- 
ruary 11,  1860,  385  ;  February  14, 
i860,  387.  To  his  children,  642- 
646.  ToColonelof  Thirteenth  Regi- 
ment, December  19,  1884,  662;  Feb- 
ruary    12,      1885,      663. Bacon, 

Dr.    Leonard,    to    H.    W.    Beecher, 

February    27,    1876,    559. Moul- 

ton,  Frank,  to  H.  W.  Beecher,  June 

1,     1873,     517. Storrs,  R;  S.,    to 

H.  W.  Beecher,  November  2,  1872, 
520. St.  Louis  Library  Associa- 
tion to  H.  W.  Beecher,   1859,   389. 

Tyng,    Dr.    S.    H.,    to   H.  W. 

Beecher,  1866,  469. 

"  Life  of  Christ/'  first  volume  of,  com- 
pleted, 480,  674  ;  second  volume  of, 
work  on,  673,  674  ;  prophetic  words 
of  Mr.  Beecher  on,  674. 

Lincoln,  Pres.,  II.  W.  Beecher's  con- 
fidence in,  304  ;  work  for,  305  ;  on 
call  of,  for  soldiers,  327,  328  ;  on 
vacillation  of,  in  1862,  329,  444  ;  on 
invincible  purpose  of,  in  1863,  398  ; 
visit   to,   in    1864,   446  ;  tribute  to. 

447. Emancipation  Proclamation 

of,  336. Nomination  of,  304. 

Restoration  of  South,  favors  imme- 
diate, 465. Nomination    of,    for 

presidency,  304. 

Lind,  Jenny,  H.  W.  Beecher's  defence 
of,  351. 

Litchfield,  Conn.,  antiquities  of,  31  ; 
appearance  of,  in  1856,  35-38  ; 
Beecher,  Lyman,  called  to,  29,  resi- 
dence and  household  at,  38,  62,  63  ; 
courts  of,  their  brilliancy,  34  ;  de- 
scription of,  by  H.  W.  Beecher,  30  ; 
education  and  religion,  reputation 
f°r.  33-  34  \  foundation  of,  wisdom 
shown  in,  33  ;  natural  beauties  of, 
32,33;  paradise,  a,  for  a  boy,  31  ; 
patriotism  of,  during  Revolution, 
34  ;  school  of,  H.  W.  Beecher  at, 
51-53;  situation  of,  30,  31  ;  winter 
in,  H.  W.  Beecher  on,  62. 

Litchfield  Hill.  30. 

Little  Pond  (Litchfield),  31. 

Liverpool,  England,  Mr.  Beecher's 
first  speech  in,  in  1863,  401,  second 
speech,  422-432,  placarded  in,  422, 
threats  against,  423,  reception  of, 
424 ;  Coutier  of,  on  Mr.  Beecher, 
422. 

London,  England,  Mr.  Beecher's  first 
speeches  in,  in  1863,  401,  402  ; 
second  speech  in,  422-436 

Lord,  Mrs.  (Litchfield),  reminiscence 
of,  37- 


Love,  Mr.,  author  of  "  Shining  Shore," 
366. 

Lovell,  John  E.,  Mr.  Beecher's  in- 
structor in  elocution,  95. 

McClellan,  Gen.  George,  defeat  of, 
327  ;  H.  W.  Beecher  on,  328. 

McLean,  Judge  John,  on  H.  W. 
Beecher's  slavery  sermons,  196,  197. 

Manchester,  Eng.,  Mr.  Beecher's 
speech  at,  408-414. 

Mason,  Lowell,  on  hymn-music,  365. 

Massachusetts  Emigrant  Company, 
work  of,  279. 

Matteawan,  N.  Y.,  Beecher  family  at, 
372,  618. 

Missouri  Compromise,  the,  235  ;  re- 
peal of,  proposed,  272,  effected,  277, 
clerical  protest  against,  273,  H.  W. 
Beecher's  articles  on,  273-277. 

Mitchel,  John,  H.  W.  Beecher's  pro- 
phecy on,  266  ;  slavery,  views  on, 
265. 

Moulton,  Frank,  assurances  of,  to  H. 
W.  Beecher,  496,  497  ;  urges  him  to 
write  to  Mrs.  Tilton,  507  ;  urges  let- 
ter from,  clearing  Tilton,  515  ;  let- 
ter to,  June  1,  1873,  5J7 1  inno- 
cence of,  affirms,  518. Conspiracy 

against  Mr.  Beecher,  joins,  494. 

Indicted  by  Grand  Jury,  533. In- 
vestigating Committee,  fails  to  at- 
tend, 529. Part  of,   in  $5,000  to 

Tilton,  519. Tilton's  cause,  ad- 
vocacy of,  505. Wife  of,  dropped 

by  Plymouth,  results,  534. 

Montague,  George,  recollections  by, 
of  H.  W.  Beecher,  93,  95. 

Mount  Pleasant  Institute,  appearance 
of,  in  1849.  107;  Beecher,  H.  W., 
enters,  93  ;  lotteries  at,  118;  stand- 
ing of,  94. 

Mount  Tom  Hill  (Litchfield),  30  ;  sig- 
nal station  at,  ancient,  31. 

Music,  H.  W.  Beecher's  early  work  in, 
92,  124,  138,  139,  144  ;  church 
music,  an  old  method  of,  363,  reform 
in,  365;  "Plymouth  Collection." 
compilation  of,  363-366  ;  hymn- 
music,  H.  W.  Beecher's  views  on, 
366.  367  ;  organ,  value  of,  to  H.  W. 
Beecher,  600. 

Napoleon  III.,  Mexican  campaign  of, 
sympathy  witt  Confederacy,  399. 

Negroes,  H.  \V.  Beecher  on  help  to 
fugitive,  240,  241,  on  return  of, 
252  ;  on  social  ostracism  of,  247  ; 
on  treatment  of,  at  North,  247  248, 


fWDEX 


7"<> 


303;    on  freedom    given  to  eight, 

I  ;  on  benefits  to,  t  torn  admission 

ol  South,  463,  467  ;  suffrage  refused 

to.  474. 

Nettleton,  Mr.,  revival  by,  at  Litch- 
field, 77,  80. 

Newell,  Constantine,  character  of,  k  6; 
covenant  of,  with   11.   \V.   Beecher, 

104  ;  history  of,  105. 

New  England,  11.  \V.  Beecher  a 
product  of,  25,  20  ;  influence  of,  on 
the  nation,  25;  slavery  in,  Mr. 
Beecher  on,  250. 

New  Jersey,  slave  erased  from  Prayer- 
Book  of,  254. 

New  York,  law  of,  as  to  slaves,  251. 

New  York  City,  corrupt  judiciary  of 
(1867-71),  572. 

North,  the,  admission  of  Southern 
States,  fear  from,  466,  467  ;  block- 
ade by,  in  1863,  399  ;  feeling  at, 
against  Compromise,  235.  236,  for 
Compromise,  238  ;  Fugitive  Slave 
Law,  abhorrence  of,  239,  240  ;  in- 
dustry in,  universal,  418  ;  merchants 
at.  black-listed,  247  ;  political  par- 
ties in,  in  1863,  398  ;  population 
and  intelligence  of  country  resident 
in,  413 ;  Rebellion,  military  ardor 
in,  in  1861,  314,  315,  desolation 
from,  315,  unity  of,  not  to  be  broken 
by,  327,  conflicting  schemes  in,  330, 
army  of,  in  1863,  397  ;  slavery  at, 
abolition  of,  251  ;  soldiers  of,  on 
exclusion  of  South,  461,  462  ;  Sum- 
ter, Fort,  excitement  over  fall  of, 
314  ;  workingman,  doctrine  as  to 
(1863),  419. 
Norwich,  N.  Y.,  H.  W.  Beecher  on, 
389- 

"  Nutplains,"  Roxana  Foote  at,  22- 
24,  26,  27. 

Omnibus  Bill,  Clay's,  236. 

Omnibuses  of  New  York  and  negroes, 
247,  248. 

Ostend  Manifesto,  the,  280. 

Oxford  Presbytery,  rule  of,  as  to  licen- 
ses, 159,  166  ;  H.  \V.  Beecher  ex- 
amined by,  161,  162,  166. 

Paris,  France,   H.  W.   Beecher's  visit 

to,  its  art-galleries,  346-348. 
Parker,  Theodore,  H.  W.  Beecher  on, 

33o,  381. 
Parker,   Dr.    (London),    tribute   of,  to 

Mr.  Beecher,  669. 
Parker,   —   (Litchfield),  reminiscence 

of,  37. 


Parker  controversy,  the,  257-262. 
Peekskill,   N.   Y  .   farm  at,   383  ;  de- 
scription, 619,  ()2o  ;  cotti 

old    apple  tree    at,   621    |    produi  I     of, 

.    floWC  is  at,  (rjo  ;    new  house  at, 

630,  decoration   of,  630;  trees 

and   shrubs    at,    (30,    632;    fowls    at, 
634,  the  patent    haulier.  635  J   cattle 

at,  636  ;  bees  at,  636,  637;  dogs  at, 
u37»  "  Tommy,"  63s. 

Phillips,    Wendell,    experiences    of,    in 

Brooklyn,  246 
Phrenology,  H.  \V.  Beecher's  adoption 

of,  130. 
Pierce,    Pres.,    Ostend    Manifesto   in- 
spired by,   280  ;    peace,  hopes    for, 
205  ;    qualifications    of,    for    office, 
257- 
Pierce,    Misses,    ladies'    school  of,   at 
Litchfield,   34  ;  reminiscence  of,  36. 
'Pinky,"  freedom  of,   bought  at  Ply 

mouth,  294-296. 
Plymouth  Church,  Advisory  Council 
(1874),  declines  to  attend,  527;  deliv- 
erance of,  how  affected  by,  527.  Ad- 
visory Council  (1876),  calls  an,  537  ; 
composition  of,  538;  questions  dis- 
cussed by,  538;  sustained  by,  549; 
recommends  committee  on  charges, 
550. Beecher,  H.  W..  generos- 
ity to,  in  Conspiracy,  565;  his  ser- 
mons in,  in  1864,  571;  welcome  to, 
in  1886,  672;  service  in,  at  death  of, 

678;  memorial    service  in.  680. 

Building,  the  new,  387. Burning 

of    first    building,    222. Call    of, 

to  Mr.    Beecher,   214. Condition 

of,  in  1858,  374. Courtesy  at,  by 

pewholders,     379,     p8o. Danger 

to,    from    mobs,     246 Debt    of, 

extinguished  (185 1),  353. Flow- 
ers   in,     introduction    of.    392. 

Formation  of,  213,  214. Genero- 
sity of  members  of,  216. Growth 

and    popularity    of,    222-224.    225, 

480. Income    of,     criticism    on, 

379. Influence  of,  480. In- 
vestigating Committee,  accepts  re- 
port of,  530. Lecture  at,  weekly, 

229. Members  in  (1862),  recep- 
tion of,  392;  exercised  over  Cleve- 
land letter,  472;  number  of,  in  1872, 
480;  troubles  caused  by.  after  Scan- 
dal, 537;  duty  of,  as  to  Adviso- 
ry   Council,    539-542. Moulton, 

Mrs.,    dropped    by.    534. Organ 

at,  the  new  (1859),  382 Phillips, 

Wendell,  at,  246. Polity  of,  232. 

Prayer-meetings     at,     weekly, 


7io 


INDEX. 


230;    daily,    376,   influence   of,  377,  ! 

prayers      in,       378. Regiments, 

rendezvous  for,  316. Revival  at,  : 

in  1848,  222;  in  1858,  375;  in  1861- i 

°3»  391. Sheridan's    victory,   joy  | 

over,    450. Silver    Wedding    of. 

480;  Children's  day,  481;  Members' 
and  Historical  days,  482;  Commu- 
nion day,  4S6;  Storrs's,    Dr.,  speech 

at,    484-486. Slavery,    its   stand 

against,     221. Slaves    ransomed 

in,  293-300. Sociable  at,  week- 
ly.       231. Sunday-schools        of, 

480. Sunday     services    in,     228, 

229. Tabernacle,     building     of, 

223. Tilton,   Theodore,  dropped 

from  rolls  of,  remonstrances  against, 
523. 

"Plymouth  Collection."  history  of, 
363-366;  terms  of  publishing  of, 
364;  a  model  for  others,  365;  H. 
W.  Beecher  on  alleged  omissions 
from,  368. 

Porter,  Pres.  Noah,  letter  to  H.  W. 
Beecher  on  Conspiracy,  532. 

Prayer,    H.    W.    Beecher's  early  love  I 
for,  97,  100;  sample  of,  228;  on   ex- 
temporaneous, 371;  reply  to  request 
for  copy  of  a,  656. 

Presbyterian  Church,  division  in,  151, 
159,  165,  one  cause  of,  160,  one  re- 
sult of,  168;  H.  W.  Beecher  on,  163. 

Prohibition  party,  H.  W.  Beecher  on, 
583. 

Prospect  Hill  (Litchfield),  30. 

Raymond,  John,  sails  for  England 
with  H.  \V.  Beecher,  396;  speech 
of,  in  London,  401. 

Rebellion,  the,  H.  W.  Beecher  on, 
310,  313,  314;  sacrifices  for,  316;  on 
Union  soldier's  duty  in,  317,  318; 
on  Southern  unity  and  Northern  un- 
certainty in,  330;  on  distinction  be- 
tween Union  troops  in,  443;  on  end 

of,  451,  455. Beginning  of,  309 

European   sentiment  regarding, 

400. Federal  army  in,  condition 

of,  in  1S63,  397. Federal  disasters 

in,  in  1862,  327. 

Reconstruction,  H.  W.  Beecher  on, 
458-461,  sermon  on.  463;  feeling 
as  to,  in  North,  464;  Johnson's, 
Pres., plan  of,  458;  problem  of,  457 

Reeve,  Judge  Tapping,  law-school  of, 
at  Litchfield,  34,  37. 

Reeve,  Mrs.,  death  of  Roxana  Beech- 
er, description  of,  48. 

Republican  party,  the,  advantages  of, 


over  rivals,  289;  H.  W.  Beecher's 
early  work  for,  289,  in  i860,  305,  in 
1864,  571,  reason^  for  opposing  in 
1884,  581-583;  campaign  song  of, 
2S9;  charge  against,  a,  answered, 
307;  corruptions  in,  574;  formation 
and  composition  of,  288;  issue  of, 
in  1860,304;  Lincoln  nominated  by, 
304;  platform  of,  first.  2S8;  South, 
exclusion  of,  minority  against,  461, 
restoration  of,  by  the  party,  477. 

Roebuck,  John  (England),  favors 
South,  why,  403. 

Ruffin,  Judge  (N.  C),  on  legal  status 
of  slaves,  249. 

Ruskin.  John,  influence  of,  on  II .  W. 
Beecher.  394. 

Russell,  Lord  John,  support  by,  of 
American   Union,  431,  433. 

Salisbury,  Conn.,  H.  W.  Beecher  at, 
618. 

Sawmill  Pond  (Litchfield),  31. 

Sawyer,  Martha,  gives  H.  W.  Beecher's 
first  call,  157. 

Scandal — see  Conspiracy. 

Scotland,  H.  W.  Beecher's  tribute  to, 
415  ;  his  speeches  in.  415-422. 

Secession,  decree  of,  305  ;  H.  \Y. 
Beecher  on.  307 

Sermons  of  H.  W.  Beecher  quoted  : 
American  Democracy,  Success  of 
(1862),  326;  Background  of  Mys- 
tery, 567;  Camp,  The  (1S61).  319  ; 
Campaign  of  1884,  584 ;  Compro- 
mise, Against  (1S60),  306 ;  Confi- 
dence in  Union  Success  (1S62),  333  ; 
Crisis,  The  (1861).  310  ;  Death  of 
the  Soldier  (1861),  35:  Evolution 
and  Religion,  567  ;  Fast-day  of  Bu- 
chanan (186 1),  307  ;  Government, 
Divine (1862),  326  ;  God  in  Nation- 
al Affairs  (1S61).  319;  Harper's 
Ferry  Tragedy  (1859),  301  ;  Indi- 
vidual Responsibility,  219  ;  Lin- 
coln's Assassination,  455  ;  Modes 
and  Duties  of  Emancipation  (1S61), 
320;  Our  National  Flag  (i86i).3i7  ; 
Past  Perils  and  Perils  of  To  day, 
574  ;  Phillips,  Wendell  (1884),  245; 
Revivals  (1858),  375  ;  first  sermons 
in  Plymouth,  218  ;  Trial  Sermon, 
685. 

Shearman,  Thomas  G.,  services  of,  in 
Conspiracy,  549. 

Sheldon,  Dr.  (Litchfield),  reminis- 
cence of,  36. 

"  Shining  Shore,"  history  of ,  366;  H. 
W.  Beecher's  liking  for,  379. 


INDEX. 


[  I 


Silver-Grays,  the,  188,  289. 

Sixty-seventh  N.  Y.  Regiment,  equip- 
ment of,  by  Mr.  Beecher,  317,  4S9. 

Slavery,  battle  against,  233,  271  ; 
Beecher's,  II.  W\,  debate  on,  at 
Amherst,  II9,  sermons  on,  in  Indi- 
anapolis, 195,  their  effect,  196,  197, 
in  Brooklyn,  219,  220  ;  Christianity 
against,  power  of,  26S  ;  Church's 
timidity  as  to,  221,  254  ;  Compro- 
mise measures  on,  233-239;  Consti- 
tution, ballot,  and  Church  as  forces 
against,  267  ;  doctrine  of,  419  ; 
dominance  of,  in  1857,  2%l  ;  eras  of, 
five,  214  ;  feeling  towards,  in  Indi- 
ana, 196,  in  United  States  in  1S54, 
271  ;  at  Lane  Seminary,  137  ;  mili- 
tary question,  a,  331  ;  Mitchel's, 
John,  views  on,  265  ;  preaching 
against,  threatened,  248,  H.  W. 
Beecher  on,  24S-252  ;  religious  soci- 
eties, attitude  of,  252  ;  treatment  of, 
H.  \V.  Beecher  on,  303,  331. 

Slaves,  eight  freed  by  law  in  New 
York,  263  ;  Beecher,  II.  W.,  on 
help  of,  240,  on  pulpit  work  for, 
24S-252,  on  return  of  fugitive,  252, 
on  proper  treatment  of,  303,  304  ; 
freedom  purchased  for,  in  Brooklyn, 
292-300;  hunting  of,  in  1851,  255  ; 
ignorance  of,  why  necessary,  417  ; 
Kansas  laws  against,  27S  ;  status  of, 
religious,  248,  legal,  249, 

Smith,  Charles,  influence  of,  on  H. 
W.  Beecher,  66,  69,  431. 

South,  the,  advantage  to,  of  Compro- 
mise Bill,  235,  238. Civil  liberty 

in,  suppression  of,  413. Cruisers 

for,  building   stopped  by  queen,  410. 

English  sympathy  for,  399-401, 

413. Grievance    of,    on    slavery, 

23S,  272. Labor  in,  dishonora- 
ble (1863),  4r8. Northern  mer- 
chants black-listed  by,  247. Re- 
bellion, unity  of  purpose  in,  330  : 
vehemence  and  courage  in,  39S  ; 
caused  by  political  leaders  of,  454. 

Slavery  in.  code  of,  251  ;  plan  of, 

for  spreading  slavery,  429. States 

of,  decree  secession,  305  ;  reconstruc- 
tion of,  problem  as  to,  457  ;  effect  of 
exclusion  of,  459  ;  Northern  soldiers 
against  exclusion  of,  461  ;  Northern 
fear  from  admission  of,  466  ;  H.  W. 
Beecher's  mediation  for,  612. 

Speeches  of  H.  W.  Beecher  quoted: 
at  Charleston  (1865  ),  451-454  ;  Ed- 
inburgh (1863),  419-422  ;  Glasgow 
(1863),  414-419;    Liverpool  (1863), 


419-422;  London   (1863),  432-436  ; 

Manchester  (1S63),  410-414  ;  North 

Victorious,  The  (18(5),  458, 
Spenser,  Edmund,    "  Faerie  Queene  " 

quoted,  156. 
Stanton,  Edwin  M.,  note  to,  from    II. 

W.  Beecher  in  1864,  and  reply,  447  ; 

Charleston,    proposes    to    send    Mr. 

Beecher   to,  44S  ;   Fort    Sumter,  fall 

of,    order   on    anniversary    of,   449  ; 

telegram  of,  as  to  Sheridan's  victory, 

45*- 

Stockton,  Col.  T.  B.  \\\,  sent  to  Lin- 
coln by  Mr.  Beecher,  443. 

Storrs,  Dr.  R.  S.,  Advisory  Council 
(1S76),  declines  to  attend,  544  ; 
Beecher,  H.  W.,  address  on  English 
speeches  of,  437,  letter  to,  on  Cleve- 
land letters,  471,  477,  tribute  to 
(1S72),  484-486,  letter  of  help  to, 
520,  refuses  reconciliation  with,  561  ; 
hostility  of,  to  H.  W.  Beecher,  rea- 
sons for,  521  ;  judgment  as  to  Mr. 
Beecher,  on  ex-parte  testimony,  522  ; 
Moulton,  Mrs.,  assumes  cause  of, 
560  ;  Tilton's  influence  on,  513, 

Stowe,  Calvin  E.,  assistance  of,  to  H. 
W.  Beecher,  137. 

Stowe,  Harriet  Beecher,  attainments  of 
H.  W.  Beecher,  remarks  on,  70,  on 
studies  of,  74  ;  Beecher,  Harriet, 
reminiscence  of,  54  ;  childhood  of, 
impressions  of,  57  ;  diligence  of,  ear- 
ly, 56  ;  her  mother's  death,  recollec- 
tions of,  48,  49  ;  Parker  controversy, 
part  taken  in,  259,  260;  reminiscences 
of,  55  ;  Roxana  Beecher,  tribute  to, 
24  ;  tulip-bulbs,  adventure  with, 
47- 

Sturtevant,   Dr.,    on    H.  W,   Beecher, 

551. 

Sumner,  Charles,  attack  on,  by  Pres- 
ton Brooks,  286  ;  meeting  on,  in 
New  York,  287  ;  H.  W.  Beecher 
on,  287.  288. 

Sumter.  Fort,  anniversary  of  fall  of, 
exercises  at,  449-454;  fall  of,  309, 
excitement  in  North,  314. 

Tallmadge,  Col.  (Litchfield),  35  ;  re- 
miniscence of,  36. 

Tappan,  Lewis,  reminiscences  by,  of 
H.  W.  Beecher,  114,  117. 

Temperance,  H.  W.  Beecher's  early 
work  in,  130,  138,  144,  147,  in  Law- 
renceburg,  185,  practice  of,  at  Ox- 
ford, Eng. ,  345,  to  his  daughter  on, 
384.  habits  as  to,  652,  653;  Lyman 
Beecher's  action  on,  42. 


712 


IXDEX. 


Terre   Haute,   Ind.,    II.  W.   Beecher's 

reminiscence  of,  190-192 
Texas,  effect  on,  of  Compromise,  235. 
Thayer,  Hon.  Eli,   in  Kansas  struggle, 

279. 

Thirteenth  Regiment,  Brooklyn,  H.W. 
Beecher  as  chaplain  of,  66o  ;  Com- 
pany G  of,  guard  at  his  funeral,  678. 

Thomas,  Rev.  John  H.,  on  H.  W. 
Beecher's  Lawrenceburg  pastorate, 
176. 

Tilton,  Theodore,  associations  of,  evil, 
497. Beecher,  H.  YV\,  early  af- 
fection for,  letter  to,  489  ;  esteems 
himself  greater  than,  490,  492  ;  whis- 
pers stories  against,  492;  hostility  to, 
first  charge  against,  493;  demand  on, 
to  leave  Brooklyn,  494,  503  ;  treach- 
ery to,  496  ;  urges  him  to  use  his 
house,  500  ;  bitterest  against,  when 
in  pecuniary  difficulties,  510;  secures 
$5,000  from,  519;  blackmail  of,  at- 
tempted, 520;  charge  against,  makes 
open,    527  ;  civil    suit    against,    533. 

Blackmail,  attempts  at,  499,  520. 

Bowen,  Henry  C,  denies   tales 

of,  490  ;  claim  against,  for  $7,000, 
496;    charge    against,    511,    secures 

publication   of,    515. Charge   of, 

denied  by  Mrs.  Tilton,  529;  specific 
charge,    530  ;  charge  changed,    532. 

Church-membership,     proposed 

deprivation      of,       509 Counsel 

of,  declares    Mr.   Beecher  innocent, 

534. Eagle,   Brooklyn,    infamous 

article  in,  514. "Editorial  Soli- 
loquy" of,    491. Family  of,    H. 

W.    Beecher's    intimacy   with,    501. 

Independent,  assistant  editor  of, 

4S8;  editor  of,  490;  resigns  editor- 
ship,   492. Indicted    by     Grand 

Jury,  533. Investigating  Com- 
mittee, before  the,  529. Lectur- 
ing, failure  at,  blames  Mr.  Beecher, 

510. Moral  conduct  of,  506. 

Observer,  work  on,  4SS. Ply- 
mouth Church,    dropped  from  rolls 

of,     523. Sketch     of,     488. 

Stories   of    past    life    of,     493. 

Storrs,  Dr    R.   S,  T.   reads    "True 

Statement  r*    to,    521. Tripartite 

agreement,   signs,  496;  his  changes 

in,  object  of,  497;  part  in,  512. 

"True  Statement''  of,  results,  513. 

Views    of,     "advanced,"'    491, 

502  ;    public    protest    against,    501. 

Wife.     trea:ment    of    his,     she 

asks  advice  of  Mr.  Beecher,  502;  in- 
criminating document  extorted  from. 


504. Woodhull,  Victoria,  alli- 
ance with,    510;  scandal  version  of 

Mrs.    W.,    statement   on,    513 

Union,  Brooklyn,  editor  of,  492. 

Toombs,  Senator  Robert,  threat  of, 
concerning  Fugitive  Slave  Bill.  236. 

Trent  affair,  the,  322;  English  papers 
on  Mr.  Beechei's  action  in,  422. 

Tripartite  agreement,  history  of,  511, 
512;  publication  of,  515,  Tilton's 
rage  at,  515,  516. 

Turner,  Thomas  J.,  superintendent  at 
"Boscobel,"  624-626. 

Tyng,  Rev.  Stephen  H.,  on  Mr. 
Beecher's  Cleveland  letter,  469. 

Union  Sewing  Committee,  formation 
of,  247. 

Unitarian  movement  in  Massachusetts, 
82,  83  ;  Sabbath- school,  ostracism 
of  a,  355,  356. 

United  States,  Administration  of,  in 
Kansas  struggle,  277-280  ;  pro 
slavery,  291  ;  inactivity  of,  in  1862, 
324,  H.  W.  Beecher  on,  328,329,  on 
mismanagement  by,  in  1862,  329.  on 
duty  of,  330,  331  :  distrusts  Mr. 
Beecher   in    1863,    397,    changes  its 

opinion  of  him,  444 Commercial 

disaster   in,    in    1857,  371,  375 

Compromise  in  1854,  feeling  on,  265; 
schemes  of,  in  i860,  306 Condi- 
tion of,  in  1813,  41,  42. Con- 
gress of,  and  President  Johnson, 
458,  469,  470  ;  constitutional  amend- 
ment by,  proposed,  473-475  jsuffiage 
to  negroes,  refuses,  474 Elec- 
tions of  1884,  condition    after,    586. 

Federal    army  of,  in  1863,  397. 

Free  trade  in,  a  future  certainty, 

429. Ireland,   sympathy  for,  265. 

Navy   of.    H.    W.    Beecher  on, 

399. Political    condition    of,     in 

1863,      398 Policy     of,     fifteen 

years,    Southern,    420. Reaction 

in,    for    Compromise,    in  1851,  255. 

Reconstruction   in,    problem  of, 

457 Repeal  of  Compromise,  ex- 
citement   over,  273. Senators  of, 

pledged    to  Compromise,    257  ;  plot 

for  rebellion    in    1856-60,    305. 

Slavery  in,  in  1854,  feeling  on,  271. 
States  of,  decree  secession,  305. 

Vicksburg,  fall  of,  effect  on  H.  W. 
Beecher,  405  ;  effect  of,  in  Great 
Britain,  406. 

Ward,  Andrew,  sketch  of,  22. 


IND 


7 '  3 


Ward,  Col.  Andrew,  sketch  of,  22. 
Ward,  Gen.    Andrew,   sketch  of,   22, 

Webster,  Daniel,  support  by,  of  Com- 
promise Bill,  236,  238. 

Weld,  Theodore,  in  early  slavery  move- 
ments, 138. 

Wellman,    Dr.,    on    II.    W.    Beecher, 

Westminster  Abbey,    II.  W.  Beccher's 

visit  to,  669. 
Whig   party,  defeat    of,  in    1S52,  257  ; 

extinction  of,  in  1854,  273. 


Wliite   Mountains,    II.   W.    Beecher's 

summer  services  in,  660, 
WUkeson,  Mr.,  part  of,  in  Conspiracy, 

5- 

Wolcott,  Oliver,  King  George's  statue 
melted  by,  34. 

Wolcott,  Gov.  Oliver,  Jr.,  reminiscence 
of,  35- 

Woodhull,  Victoria,  blackmail  of  II. 
W.  Beecher,  attempted,  513  ;  letters 
in  possession  of,  Mr.  Beecher  on, 
522  ;  scandal,  version  of,  published, 
510,  513,  520. 


-  s* 


a* 


